•NRLF 


-• 


THE   TRUMPET-MAJOR 


or  THE 
f    UNIVERSITY  ) 

CA?  iroB^\> 


THE   TRUMPET-MAJOR 

JOHN    LOVEDAY 

A  SOLDIER  IN  THE  WAR  WITH  BUONAPARTE 
AND 

ROBERT  HIS  BROTHER 

FIRST  MATE  IN   THE  MERCHANT  SERVICE 
A  TALE 


BY 


THOMAS    HARDY 

AUTHOR  OF   "TESS  OF  THE   D'URBERVILLES, 

"LIFE'S  LITTLE  IRONIES,"  ETC. 


WITH   AN   ETCHING  BY 

H.    MACBETH-RAEBURN 

AND  A  MAP  OF  WESSEX 

?^BBIAK> 
Of  THF 

UNIVER       ' 

or  ' '' 

£4f,ror^;> 

NEW  YORK 
HARPER  &  BROTHERS,  PUBLISHERS 

FRANKLIN  SQUARE 
1896 


PREFACE 

1  HE  present  tale  is  founded  more  largely  on  testimony — 
oral  and  written — than  any  other  in  this  series.  The  exter- 
nal incidents  which  direct  its  course  are  mostly  an  unex- 
aggerated  reproduction  of  the  recollections  of  old  persons 
well  known  to  the  author  in  childhood,  but  now  long  dead, 
who  were  eye-witnesses  of  those  scenes.  If  wholly  tran- 
scribed their  recollections  would  have  filled  a  volume  thrice 
the  length  of 'The  Trumpet-Major.' 

Down  to  the  middle  of  this  century,  and  later,  there  were 
not  wanting,  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  places  more  or 
less  clearly  indicated  herein,  casual  relics  of  the  circum- 
stances amid  which  the  action  moves— our  preparations  for 
defence  against  the  threatened  invasion  of  England  by 
Buonaparte.  An  outhouse  door  riddled  with  bullet-holes, 
which  had  been  extemporized  by  a  solitary  man  as  a  target 
for  firelock  practice  when  the  landing  was  hourly  expected, 
a  heap  of  bricks  and  clods  on  a  beacon-hill,  which  had 
formed  the  chimney  and  walls  of  the  hut  occupied  by  the 
beacon-keeper,  worm-eaten  shafts  and  iron  heads  of  pikes 
for  the  use  of  those  who  had  no  better  weapons,  ridges  on 
the  down  thrown  up  during  the  encampment,  fragments  of 
volunteer  uniform,  and  other  such  lingering  remains,  brought 
to  my  imagination  in  early  childhood  the  state  of  affairs  at 


PREFACE 

the  date  of  the  war  more  vividly  than  volumes  of  history 
could  have  done. 

Those  who  have  attempted  to  construct  a  coherent 
narrative  of  past  times  from  the  fragmentary  information 
furnished  by  survivors,  are  aware  of  the  difficulty  of  ascer- 
taining the  true  sequence  of  events  indiscriminately  re- 
called. For  this  purpose  the  newspapers  of  the  date  were 
indispensable.  Of  other  documents  consulted  I  may  men- 
tion, for  the  satisfaction  of  those  who  love  a  true  story,  that 
the  '  Address  to  all  Ranks  and  Descriptions  of  Englishmen ' 
was  transcribed  from  an  original  copy  in  a  local  museum  ; 
that  the  hieroglyphic  portrait  of  Napoleon  existed  as  a 
print  down  to  the  present  day  in  an  old  woman's  cottage 
near  '  Overcombe  ; '  that  the  particulars  of  the  King's 
doings  at  his  favourite  watering-place  were  augmented  by 
details  from  records  of  the  time.  The  drilling  scene  of  the 
local  militia  received  some  additions  from  an  account  given 
in  so  grave  a  work  as  Gifford's  '  History  of  the  Wars  of  the 
French  Revolution'  (London,  1817).  But  on  reference  to 
the  History  I  find  I  was  mistaken  in  supposing  the  account 
to  be  advanced  as  authentic,  or  to  refer  to  rural  England. 
However,  it  does  in  a  large  degree  accord  with  the  local 
traditions  of  such  scenes  that  I  have  heard  recounted,  times 
without  number,  and  the  system  of  drill  was  tested  by  re- 
ference to  the  Army  Regulations  of  1801,  and  other  military 
handbooks.  Almost  the  whole  narrative  of  the  supposed 
landing  of  the  French  in  the  Bay  is  from  oral  relation  as 
aforesaid.  Other  proofs  of  the  veracity  of  this  chronicle 

have  escaped  my  recollection. 

T.  H. 

October  1895. 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

I.  WHAT  WAS  SEEN  FROM  THE  WINDOW  OVERLOOK- 
ING THE  DOWN  .....          i 

II.  SOMEBODY  KNOCKS  AND  COMES  IN  .  .n 

III.  THE  MILL  BECOMES  AN  IMPORTANT  CENTRE  OF 

OPERATIONS        .....        20 

IV.  WHO  WERE   PRESENT  AT  THE   MILLER'S    LITTLE 

ENTERTAINMENT  .  .  .  .29 

V.  THE  SONG  AND  THE  STRANGER   .  33 

VI.  OLD  MR.  DERRIMAN  OF  OXWELL  HALL  .        43 

VII.    HOW  THEY  TALKED    IN  THE   PASTURES    .  .  57 

VIII.  ANNE  MAKES  A  CIRCUIT  OF  THE  CAMP  .  .        62 

IX.  ANNE  is  KINDLY  FETCHED  BY  THE  TRUMPET- 
MAJOR      ....  -7i 

X.  THE  MATCH-MAKING  VIRTUES   OF  A   DOUBLE 

GARDEN   ......        85 

vii 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

XI.  OUR  PEOPLE  ARE  AFFECTED  BY  THE  PRESENCE 

OF  ROYALTY        .  .  .  .  -93 

XII.  How  EVERYBODY,  GREAT  AND  SMALL,  CLIMBED 

TO   THE   TOP   OF   THE   DOWNS     .  .  .          105 

XIII.  THE  CONVERSATION  IN  THE  CROWD       .  -113 

XIV.  LATER  IN  THE  EVENING  OF  THE  SAME  DAY     .      120 

XV.  'CAPTAIN'  BOB  LOVEDAY,  OF  THE  MERCHANT 

SERVICE   ......      125 

XVI.  THEY    MAKE    READY    FOR    THE     ILLUSTRIOUS 

STRANGER  .  .  .  .  .138 

XVII.  Two  FAINTING  FITS  AND  A  BEWILDERMENT     .      149 
XVIII.  THE  NIGHT  AFTER  THE  ARRIVAL  .  .      157 

XIX.  Miss  JOHNSON'S  BEHAVIOUR  CAUSES  NO  LITTLE 

SURPRISE  .  .  .  .  .  .163 

XX.  HOW  THEY  LESSENED   THE   EFFECT   OF   THE 

CALAMITY  .  .  .  .  -174 

XXI.  'UPON  THE  HILL  HE  TURNED'   .  .  .182 

XXII.  THE  Two  HOUSEHOLDS  UNITED  .  .189 

XXIII.  MILITARY    PREPARATIONS    ON    AN    EXTENDED 

SCALE     ......      202 

XXIV.  A  LETTER,  A  VISITOR,  AND  A  TIN  Box  .      214 
XXV.  FESTUS  SHOWS  HIS  LOVE  220 


XXVI.  THE  ALARM  ...  .227 

viii 


CONTENTS 

FACE 

XXVII.  DANGER  TO  ANNE  242 

XXVIII.  ANNE  DOES  WONDERS   .  .251 

XXIX.  A  DISSEMBLER    .  .      265 

XXX.  AT  THE  THEATRE  ROYAL  .      270 

XXXI.  MIDNIGHT  VISITORS       .           .  .           .280 

XXXII.  DELIVERANCE      .           .           .  .           .289 

XXXIII.  A  DISCOVERY  TURNS  THE  SCALE  .           .      297 

XXXIV.  A  SPECK  ON  THE  SEA  .  311 
XXXV.  A  SAILOR  ENTERS          .           .  323 

XXXVI.  DERRIMAN  SEES  CHANCES        .  .           .      332 

XXXVII.  REACTION                       .  339 

XXXVIII.  A  DELICATE  SITUATION  .      350 

XXXIX.   BOB  LOVEDAY  STRUTS   UP  AND  DOWN  .        361 

XL.  A  CALL  ON  BUSINESS    .  373 

XLI.  JOHN  MARCHES  INTO  THE  NIGHT  .           .      382 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 


WHAT  WAS  SEEN 
FROM  THE  WINDOW 

OVERLOOKING  THE  DOWN 


1 N  the  days  of  high-waisted  and  muslin-gowned  women, 
when  the  vast  amount  of  soldiering  going  on  in  the 
country  was  a  cause  of  much  trembling  to  the  sex,  there 
lived  in  a  village  near  the  Wessex  coast  two  ladies  of 
good  report,  though  unfortunately  of  limited  means. 
The  elder  was  a  Mrs.  Martha  Garland,  a  landscape- 
painter's  widow,  and  the  other  was  her  only  daughter 
Anne. 

Anne  was  fair,  very  fair,  in  a  poetical  sense ;  but  in 
complexion  she  was  of  that  particular  tint  between 
blonde  and  brunette  which  is  inconveniently  left  with- 
out a  name.  Her  eyes  were  honest  and  inquiring,  her 
mouth  cleanly  cut  and  yet  not  classical,  the  middle 
point  of  her  upper  lip  scarcely  descending  so  far  as  it 
should  have  done  by  rights,  so  that  at  the  merest 
pleasant  thought,  not  to  mention  a  smile,  portions  of 
two  or  three  white  teeth  were  uncovered  whether  she 
would  or  not.  Some  people  said  that  this  was  very 
attractive.  She  was  graceful  and  slender,  and,  though 
but  little  above  five  feet  in  height,  could  draw  herself  up 
to  look  tall.  In  her  manner,  in  her  comings  and  goings, 
in  her  '  I'll  do  this,'  or  '  I'll  do  that,'  she  combined 

i  A 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

dignity  with  sweetness  as  no  other  girl  could  do;  and 
any  impressionable  stranger  youths  who  passed  by  were 
led  to  yearn  for  a  windfall  of  speech  from  her,  and  to 
see  at  the  same  time  that  they  would  not  get  it.  In 
short,  beneath  all  that  was  charming  and  simple  in  this 
young  woman  there  lurked  a  real  firmness,  unperceived 
at  first,  as  the  speck  of  colour  lurks  unperceived  in  the 
heart  of  the  palest  parsley  flower. 

She  wore  a  white  handkerchief  to  cover  her  white 
neck,  and  a  cap  on  her  head  with  a  pink  ribbon  round 
it,  tied  in  a  bow  at  the  front.  She  had  a  great  variety 
of  these  cap-ribbons,  the  young  men  being  fond  of 
sending  them  to  her  as  presents  until  they  fell  definitely 
in  love  with  a  special  sweetheart  elsewhere,  when  they 
left  off  doing  so.  Between  the  border  of  her  cap  and 
her  forehead  were  ranged  a  row  of  round  brown  curls, 
like  swallows'  nests  under  eaves. 

She  lived  with  her  widowed  mother  in  a  portion  of 
an  ancient  building  formerly  a  manor-house,  but  now  a 
mill,  which,  being  too  large  for  his  own  requirements, 
the  miller  had  found  it  convenient  to  divide  and  appro- 
priate in  part  to  these  highly  respectable  tenants.  In 
this  dwelling  Mrs.  Garland's  and  Anne's  ears  were 
soothed  morning,  noon,  and  night  by  the  music  of  the 
mill,  the  wheels  and  cogs  of  which,  being  of  wood,  pro- 
duced notes  that  might  have  borne  in  their  minds  a 
remote  resemblance  to  the  wooden  tones  of  the  stopped 
diapason  in  an  organ.  Occasionally,  when  the  miller 
was  bolting,  there  was  added  to  these  continuous  sounds 
the  cheerful  clicking  of  the  hopper,  which  did  not  de- 
prive them  of  rest  except  when  it  was  kept  going  all 
night ;  and  over  and  above  all  this  they  had  the  pleasure 
of  knowing  that  there  crept  in  through  every  crevice, 
door,  and  window  of  their  dwelling,  however  tightly 
closed,  a  subtle  mist  of  superfine  flour  from  the  grinding- 
room,  quite  invisible,  but  making  its  presence  known  in 
the  course  of  time  by  giving  a  pallid  and  ghostly  look 

2 


THE   TRUMPET-MAJOR 

to  the  best  furniture.  The  miller  frequently  apologized 
to  his  tenants  for  the  intrusion  of  this  insidious  dry  fog ; 
but  the  widow  was  of  a  friendly  and  thankful  nature,  and 
she  said  that  she  did  not  mind  it  at  all,  being  as  it  was, 
not  nasty  dirt,  but  the  blessed  staff  of  life. 

By  good-humour  of  this  sort,  and  in  other  ways, 
Mrs.  Garland  acknowledged  her  friendship  for  her  neigh- 
bour, with  whom  Anne  and  herself  associated  to  an 
extent  which  she  never  could  have  anticipated  when, 
tempted  by  the  lowness  of  the  rent,  they  first  removed 
thither  after  her  husband's  death  from  a  larger  house  at 
the  other  end  of  the  village.  Those  who  have  lived  in 
remote  places  where  there  is  what  is  called  no  society 
will  comprehend  the  gradual  levelling  of  distinctions 
that  went  on  in  this  case  at  some  sacrifice  of  gentility 
on  the  part  of  one  household.  The  widow  was  some- 
times sorry  to  find  with  what  readiness  Anne  caught 
up  some  dialect-word  or  accent  from  the  miller  and  his 
friends;  but  he  was  so  good  and  true-hearted  a  man, 
and  she  so  easy-minded,  unambitious  a  woman,  that  she 
would  not  make  life  a  solitude  for  fastidious  reasons. 
More  than  all,  she  Had  good  ground  for  thinking 
that  the  miller  secretly  admired  her,  and  this  added  a 
piquancy  to  the  situation. 

On  a  fine  summer  morning,  when  the  leaves  were  warm 
under  the  sun,  and  the  more  industrious  bees  abroad, 
diving  into  every  blue  and  red  cup  that  could  possibly 
be  considered  a  flower,  Anne  was  sitting  at  the  back 
window  of  her  mother's  portion  of  the  house,  measuring 
out  lengths  of  worsted  for  a  fringed  rug  that  she  was 
making,  which  lay,  about  three-quarters  finished,  beside 
her.  The  work,  though  chromatically  brilliant,  was 
tedious :  a  hearth-rug  was  a  thing  which  nobody  worked 
at  from  morning  to  night;  it  was  taken  up  and  put 
down ;  it  was  in  the  chair,  on  the  floor,  across  the 
hand-rail,  under  the  bed,  kicked  here,  kicked  there, 

3 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

rolled  away  in  the  closet,  brought  out  again,  and  so  on, 
more  capriciously  perhaps  than  any  other  home-made 
article.  Nobody  was  expected  to  finish  a  rug  within 
a  calculable  period,  and  the  wools  of  the  beginning 
became  faded  and  historical  before  the  end  was  reached. 
A  sense  of  this  inherent  nature  of  worsted- work  i  rather 
than  idleness  led  Anne  to  look  rather  frequently  from 
the  open  casement. 

Immediately  before  her  was  the  large,  smooth  mill- 
pond,  over-full,  and  intruding  into  the  hedge  and  into  the 
road.  The  water,  with  its  flowing  leaves  and  spots  of 
froth,  was  stealing  away,  like  Time,  under  the  dark  arch, 
to  tumble  over  the  great  slimy  wheel  within.  On  the 
other  side  of  the  mill-pond  was  an  open  place  called  the 
Cross,  because  it  was  three-quarters  of  one,  two  lanes 
and  a  cattle-drive  meeting  there.  It  was  the  general 
rendezvous  and  arena  of  the  surrounding  village.  Behind 
this  a  steep  slope  rose  high  into  the  sky,  merging  in  a 
wide  and  open  down,  now  littered  with  sheep  newly 
shorn.  The  upland  by  its  height  completely  sheltered 
the  mill  and  village  from  north  winds,  making  summers 
of  springs,  reducing  winters  to  autumn  temperatures, 
and  permitting  myrtle  to  flourish  in  the  open  air. 

The  heaviness  of  noon  pervaded  the  scene,  and  under 
its  influence  the  sheep  had  ceased  to  feed.  Nobody 
was  standing  at  the  Cross,  the  few  inhabitants  being 
indoors  at  their  dinner.  No  human  being  was  on  the 
down,  and  no  human  eye  or  interest  but  Anne's  seemed 
to  be  concerned  with  it.  The  bees  still  worked  on,  and 
the  butterflies  did  not  rest  from  roving,  their  smallness 
seeming  to  shield  them  from  the  stagnating  effect  that 
this  turning  moment  of  day  had  on  larger  creatures. 
Otherwise  all  was  still. 

The  girl  glanced  at  the  down  and  the  sheep  for  no 
particular  reason ;  the  steep  margin  of  turf  and  daisies 
rising  above  the  roofs,  chimneys,  apple-trees,  and  church 
tower  of  the  hamlet  around  her,  bounded  the  view  from 

4 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

her  position,  and  it  was  necessary  to  look  somewhere 
when  she  raised  her  head.  While  thus  engaged  in 
working  and  stopping  her  attention  was  attracted  by 
the  sudden  rising  and  running  away  of  the  sheep 
squatted  on  the  down ;  and  there  succeeded  sounds 
of  a  heavy  tramping  over  the  hard  sod  which  the  sheep 
had  quitted,  the  tramp  being  accompanied  by  a  metallic 
jingle.  Turning  her  eyes  further  she  beheld  two  cavalry 
soldiers  on  bulky  grey  chargers,  armed  and  accoutred 
throughout,  ascending  the  down  at  a  point  to  the  left 
where  the  incline  was  comparatively  easy.  The  bur- 
nished chains,  buckles,  and  plates  of  their  trappings 
shone  like  little  looking-glasses,  and  the  blue,  red,  and 
white  about  them  was  unsubdued  by  weather  or  wear. 

The  two  troopers  rode  proudly  on,  as  if  nothing  less 
than  crowns  and  empires  ever  concerned  their  magni- 
ficent minds.  They  reached  that  part  of  the  down 
which  lay  just  in  front  of  her,  where  they  came  to 
a  halt.  In  another  minute  there  appeared  behind 
them  a  group  containing  some  half-dozen  more  of  the 
same  sort.  These  came  on,  halted,  and  dismounted 
likewise. 

,Two  of  the  soldiers  then  walked  some  distance  on- 
ward together,  when  one  stood  still,  the  other  advancing 
further,  and  stretching  a  white  line  of  tape  between 
them.  Two  more  of  the  men  marched  to  another  out- 
lying point,  where  they  made  marks  in  the  ground. 
Thus  they  walked  about  and  took  distances,  obviously 
according  to  some  preconcerted  scheme. 

At  the  end  of  this  systematic  proceeding  one  solitary 
horseman — a  commissioned  officer,  if  his  uniform  could 
be  judged  rightly  at  that  distance — rode  up  the  down, 
went  over  the  ground,  looked  at  what  the  others  had 
done,  and  seemed  to  think  that  it  was  good.  And  then 
the  girl  heard  yet  louder  tramps  and  clankings,  and  she 
beheld  rising  from  where  the  others  had  risen  a  whole 
column  of  cavalry  in  marching  order.  At  a  distance 

5 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

behind  these  came  a  cloud  of  dust  enveloping  more  and 
more  troops,  their  arms  and  accoutrements  reflecting  the 
sun  through  the  haze  in  faint  flashes,  stars,  and  streaks 
of  light.  The  whole  body  approached  slowly  towards 
the  plateau  at  the  top  of  the  down. 

Anne  threw  down  her  work,  and  letting  her  eyes 
remain  on  the  nearing  masses  of  cavalry,  the  worsteds 
getting  entangled  as  they  would,  said,  '  Mother,  mother ; 
come  here !  Here's  such  a  fine  sight !  What  does  it 
mean  ?  What  can  they  be  going  to  do  up  there  ? ' 

The  mother  thus  invoked  ran  upstairs  and  came 
forward  to  the  window.  She  was  a  woman  of  sanguine 
mouth  and  eye,  unheroic  manner,  and  pleasant  general 
appearance;  a  little  more  tarnished  as  to  surface,  but 
not  much  worse  in  contour  than  the  girl  herself. 

Widow  Garland's  thoughts  were  those  of  the  period. 
'  Can  it  be  the  French  ? '  she  said,  arranging  herself  for 
the  extremest  form  of  consternation.  'Can  that  arch- 
enemy of  mankind  have  landed  at  last  ? '  It  should  be 
stated  that  at  this  time  there  were  two  arch-enemies  of 
mankind — Satan  as  usual,  and  Buonaparte,  who  had 
sprung  up  and  eclipsed  his  elder  rival  altogether.  Mrs. 
Garland  alluded,  of  course,  to  the  junior  gentleman. 

1  It  cannot  be  he,'  said  Anne.  '  Ah  !  there's  Simon 
Burden,  the  man  who  watches  at  the  beacon.  He'll 
know ! ' 

She  waved  her  hand  to  an  aged  form  of  the  same 
colour  as  the  road,  who  had  just  appeared  beyond  the 
mill-pond,  and  who,  though  active,  was  bowed  to  that 
degree  which  almost  reproaches  a  feeling  observer  for 
standing  upright.  The  arrival  of  the  soldiery  had 
drawn  him  out  from  his  drop  of  drink  at  the  '  Duke  of 
York '  as  it  had  attracted  Anne.  At  her  call  he  crossed 
the  mill-bridge,  and  came  towards  the  window. 

Anne  inquired  of  him  what  it  all  meant ;  but  Simon 
Burden,  without  answering,  continued  to  move  on  with 
parted  gums,  staring  at  the  cavalry  on  his  own  private 

6 


THE   TRUMPET-MAJOR 

account  with  a  concern  that  people  often  show  about 
temporal  phenomena  when  such  matters  can  affect  them 
but  a  short  time  longer.  'You'll  walk  into  the  mill- 
pond  ! '  said  Anne.  *  What  are  they  doing  ?  You  were 
a  soldier  many  years  ago,  and  ought  to  know.' 

'  Don't  ask  me,  Mis'ess  Anne,'  said  the  military 
relic,  depositing  his  body  against  the  wall  one  limb 
at  a  time.  '  I  were  only  in  the  foot,  ye  know,  and 
never  had  a  clear  understanding  of  horses.  Ay,  I  be  a 
old  man,  and  of  no  judgment  now.'  Some  additional 
pressure,  however,  caused  him  to  search  further  in  his 
worm-eaten  magazine  of  ideas,  and  he  found  that  he  did 
know  in  a  dim  irresponsible  way.  The  soldiers  must 
have  come  there  to  camp :  those  men  they  had  seen 
first  were  the  markers  :  they  had  come  on  before  the 
rest  to  measure  out  the  ground.  He  who  had  accom- 
panied them  was  the  quartermaster.  '  And  so  you  see 
they  have  got  all  the  lines  marked  out  by  the  time  the 
regiment  have  come  up,'  he  added.  'And  then  they 
will — well-a-deary !  who'd  ha'  supposed  that  Overcombe 
would  see  such  a  day  as  this  ! ' 

'  And  then  they  will ' 

*  Then —      Ah,    it's    gone    from    me    again ! '    said 
Simon.     '  O,  and  then  they  will  raise  their  tents,  you 
know,    and   picket    their  horses.     That   was    it;  so  it 
was.' 

By  this  time  the  column  of  horse  had  ascended  into 
full  view,  and  they  formed  a  lively  spectacle  as  they  rode 
along  the  high  ground  in  marching  order,  backed  by  the 
pale  blue  sky,  and  lit  by  the  southerly  sun.  Their  uni- 
form was  bright  and  attractive;  white  buckskin  panta- 
loons, three-quarter  boots,  scarlet  shakos  set  off  with 
lace,  mustachios  waxed  to  a  needle  point ;  and  above 
all,  those  richly  ornamented  blue  jackets  mantled  with 
the  historic  pelisse — that  fascination  to  women,  and 
encumbrance  to  the  wearers  themselves. 

*  'Tis    the   York    Hussars !  '    said    Simon    Burden, 

7 


THE   TRUMPET-MAJOR 

brightening  like  a  dying  ember  fanned.  '  Foreigners 
to  a  man,  and  enrolled  long  since  my  time.  But  as 
good  hearty  comrades,  they  say,  as  you'll  find  in  the 
King's  service.' 

'  Here  are  more  and  different  ones,'  said  Mrs. 
Garland. 

Other  troops  had,  during  the  last  few  minutes,  been 
ascending  the  down  at  a  remoter  point,  and  now  drew 
near.  These  were  of  different  weight  and  build  from 
the  others;  lighter  men,  in  helmet  hats,  with  white 
plumes. 

' I  don't  know  which  I  like  best,'  said  Anne.  'These, 
I  think,  after  all.' 

Simon,  who  had  been  looking  hard  at  the  latter,  now 
said  that  they  were  the th  Dragoons. 

1  All  Englishmen  they,'  said  the  old  man.  '  They  lay 
at  Budmouth  barracks  a  few  years  ago.' 

*  They  did.     I  remember  it,'  said  Mrs.  Garland. 

c  And  lots  of  the  chaps  about  here  'listed  at  the  time,' 
said  Simon.  '  I  can  call  to  mind  that  there  was — ah, 
'tis  gone  from  me  again !  However,  all  that's  of  little 
account  now.' 

The  dragoons  passed  in  front  of  the  lookers-on  as 
the  others  had  done,  and  their  gay  plumes,  which  had 
hung  lazily  during  the  ascent,  swung  to  northward  as 
they  reached  the  top,  showing  that  on  the  summit  a 
fresh  breeze  blew.  *  But  look  across  there,'  said  Anne. 
There  had  entered  upon  the  down  from  another  direc- 
tion several  battalions  of  foot,  in  white  kerseymere 
breeches  and  cloth  gaiters.  They  seemed  to  be  weary 
from  a  long  march,  the  original  black  of  their  gaiters 
and  boots  being  whity-brown  with  dust.  Presently  came 
regimental  waggons,  and  the  private  canteen  carts  which 
followed  at  the  end  of  a  convoy. 

The  space  in  front  of  the  mill-pond  was  now  occupied 
by  nearly  all  the  inhabitants  of  the  village,  who  had 
turned  out  in  alarm,  and  remained  for  pleasure,  their 

8 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

eyes  lighted  up  with  interest  in  what  they  saw ;  for  trap- 
pings and  regimentals,  war  horses  and  men,  in  towns  an 
attraction,  were  here  almost  a  sublimity. 

The  troops  filed  to  their  lines,  dismounted,  and  in 
quick  time  took  off  their  accoutrements,  rolled  up  their 
sheep-skins,  picketed  and  unbitted  their  horses,  and 
made  ready  to  erect  the  tents  as  soon  as  they  could  be 
taken  from  the  waggons  and  brought  forward.  When 
this  was  done,  at  a  given  signal  the  canvases  flew  up 
from  the  sod ;  and  thenceforth  every  man  had  a  place 
in  which  to  lay  his  head. 

Though  nobody  seemed  to  be  looking  on  but  the  few 
at  the  window  and  in  the  village  street,  there  were,  as  a 
matter  of  fact,  many  eyes  converging  upon  that  military 
arrival  in  its  high  and  conspicuous  position,  not  to  men- 
tion the  glances  of  birds  and  other  wild  creatures.  Men 
in  distant  gardens,  women  in  orchards  and  at  cottage- 
doors,  shepherds  on  remote  hills,  turnip-hoers  in  blue- 
green  enclosures  miles  away,  captains  with  spy-glasses 
out  at  sea,  were  regarding  the  picture  keenly.  Those 
three  or  four  thousand  men  of  one  machine-like  move- 
ment, some  of  them  swashbucklers  by  nature;  others, 
doubtless,  of  a  quiet  shop-keeping  disposition  who  had 
inadvertently  got  into  uniform — all  of  them  had  arrived 
from  nobody  knew  where,  and  hence  were  matter  of 
great  curiosity.  They  seemed  to  the  mere  eye  to  belong 
to  a  different  order  of  beings  from  those  who  inhabited 
the  valleys  below.  Apparently  unconscious  and  careless 
of  what  all  the  world  was  doing  elsewhere,  they  remained 
picturesquely  engrossed  in  the  business  of  making  them- 
selves a  habitation  on  the  isolated  spot  which  they  had 
chosen. 

Mrs.  Garland  was  of  a  festive  and  sanguine  turn  of 
mind,  a  woman  soon  set  up  and  soon  set  down,  and  the 
coming  of  the  regiments  quite  excited  her.  She  thought 
there  was  reason  for  putting  on  her  best  cap,  thought 
that  perhaps  there  was  not ;  that  she  would  hurry  on  the 

9 


THE   TRUMPET-MAJOR 

dinner  and  go  out  in  the  afternoon ;  then  that  she  would, 
after  all,  do  nothing  unusual,  nor  show  any  silly  excite- 
ments whatever,  since  they  were  unbecoming  in  a  mother 
and  a  widow.  Thus  circumscribing  her  intentions  till  she 
was  toned  down  to  an  ordinary  person  of  forty,  Mrs. 
Garland  accompanied  her  daughter  downstairs  to  dine, 
saying,  c  Presently  we  will  call  on  Miller  Loveday,  and 
hear  what  he  thinks  of  it  all.' 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 


SOMEBODY  KNOCKS 

AND  COMES  TN 

II 

MlLLER  LOVED  AY  was  the  representative  of  an 
ancient  family  of  corn-grinders  whose  history  is  lost  in 
the  mists  of  antiquity.  His  ancestral  line  was  contem- 
poraneous with  that  of  De  Ros,  Howard,  and  De  La 
Zouche;  but,  owing  to  some  trifling  deficiency  in  the 
possessions  of  the  house  of  Loveday,  the  individual  names 
and  intermarriages  of  its  members  were  not  recorded 
during  the  Middle  Ages,  and  thus  their  private  lives  in 
any  given  century  were  uncertain.  But  it  was  known 
that  the  family  had  formed  matrimonial  alliances  with 
farmers  not  so  very  small,  and  once  with  a  gentleman- 
tanner,  who  had  for  many  years  purchased  after  their  death 
the  horses  of  the  most  aristocratic  persons  in  the  county 
— fiery  steeds  that  earlier  in  their  career  had  been  valued 
at  many  hundred  guineas. 

It  was  also  ascertained  that  Mr.  Loveday's  great- 
grandparents  had  been  eight  in  number,  and  his  great- 
great-grandparents  sixteen,  every  one  of  whom  reached 
to  years  of  discretion  :  at  every  stage  backwards  his  sires 
and  gammers  thus  doubled  and  doubled  till  they  became 
a  vast  body  of  Gothic  ladies  and  gentlemen  of  the  rank 
known  as  ceorls  or  villeins,  full  of -importance  to  the 

ii 


THE   TRUMPET-MAJOR 

country  at  large,  and  ramifying  throughout  the  unwritten 
history  of  England.  His  immediate  father  had  greatly 
improved  the  value  of  their  residence  by  building  a 
new  chimney,  and  setting  up  an  additional  pair  of  mill- 
stones. 

Overcombe  Mill  presented  at  one  end  the  appear- 
ance of  a  hard- worked  house  slipping  into  the  river,  and 
at  the  other  of  an  idle,  genteel  place,  half-cloaked  with 
creepers  at  this  time  of  the  year,  and  having  no  visible 
connexion  with  flour.  It  had  hips  instead  of  gables, 
giving  it  a  round-shouldered  look,  four  chimneys  with 
no  smoke  coming  out  of  them,  two  zigzag  cracks  in  the 
wall,  several  open  windows,  with  a  looking-glass  here 
and  there  inside,  showing  its  warped  back  to  the  passer- 
by ;  snowy  dimity  curtains  waving  in  the  draught ;  two 
mill  doors,  one  above  the  other,  the  upper  enabling  a 
person  to  step  out  upon  nothing  at  a  height  of  ten 
feet  from  the  ground ;  a  gaping  arch  vomiting  the  river, 
and  a  lean,  long-nosed  fellow  looking  out  from  the 
mill  doorway,  who  was  the  hired  grinder,  except  when 
a  bulging  fifteen  stone  man  occupied  the  same  place, 
namely,  the  miller  himself. 

Behind  the  mill  door,  and  invisible  to  the  mere  way- 
farer who  did  not  visit  the  family,  were  chalked  addition 
and  subtraction  sums,  many  of  them  originally  done 
wrong,  and  the  figures  half  rubbed  out  and  corrected, 
noughts  being  turned  into  nines,  and  ones  into  twos. 
These  were  the  miller's  private  calculations.  There 
were  also  chalked  in  the  same  place  rows  and  rows  of 
strokes  like  open  palings,  representing  the  calculations 
of  the  grinder,  who  in  his  youthful  ciphering  studies 
had  not  gone  so  far  as  Arabic  figures. 

In  the  court  in  front  were  two  worn-out  millstones, 
made  useful  again  by  being  let  in  level  with  the  ground. 
Here  people  stood  to  smoke  and  consider  things  in 
muddy  weather;  and  cats  slept  on  the  clean  surfaces 
when  it  was  hot.  In  the  large  stubbard-tree  at  the 

12 


THE   TRUMPET-MAJOR 

corner  of  the  garden  was  erected  a  pole  of  larch  fir, 
which  the  miller  had  bought  with  others  at  a  sale  of 
small  timber  in  Darner's  Wood  one  Christmas  week. 
It  rose  from  the  upper  boughs  of  the  tree  to  about  the 
height  of  a  fisherman's  mast,  and  on  the  top  was  a  vane 
in  the  form  of  a  sailor  with  his  arm  stretched  out. 
When  the  sun  shone  upon  this  figure  it  could  be  seen 
that  the  greater  part  of  his  countenance  was  gone,  and 
the  paint  washed  from  his  body  so  far  as  to  reveal 
that  he  had  been  a  soldier  in  red  before  he  became  a 
sailor  in  blue.  The  image  had,  in  fact,  been  John,  one 
of  our  coming  characters,  and  was  then  turned  into 
Robert,  another  of  them.  This  revolving  piece  of 
statuary  could  not,  however,  be  relied  on  as  a  vane, 
owing  to  the  neighbouring  hill,  which  formed  variable 
currents  in  the  wind. 

The  leafy  and  quieter  wing  of  the  mill-house  was  the 
part  occupied  by  Mrs.  Garland  and  her  daughter,  who 
made  up  in  summer-time  for  the  narrowness  of  their 
quarters  by  overflowing  into  the  garden  on  stools  and 
chairs.  The  parlour  or  dining-room  had  a  stone  floor — 
a  fact  which  the  widow  sought  to  disguise  by  double 
carpeting,  lest  the  standing  of  Anne  and  herself  should 
be  lowered  in  the  public  eye.  Here  now  the  mid-day 
meal  went  lightly  and  mincingly  on,  as  it  does  where 
there  is  no  greedy  carnivorous  man  to  keep  the  dishes 
about,  and  was  hanging  on  the  close  when  somebody 
entered  the  passage  as  far  as  the  chink  of  the  parlour 
door,  and  tapped.  This  proceeding  was  probably 
adopted  to  kindly  avoid  giving  trouble  to  Susan,  the 
neighbour's  pink  daughter,  who  helped  at  Mrs.  Gar- 
land's in  the  mornings,  but  was  at  that  moment  particu- 
larly occupied  in  standing  on  the  water-butt  and  gazing 
at  the  soldiers,  with  an  inhaling  position  of  the  mouth 
and  circular  eyes. 

There  was  a  flutter  in  the  little  dining-room — the 
sensitiveness  of  habitual  solitude  makes  hearts  beat  for 

13 


THE   TRUMPET-MAJOR 

preternaturally  small  reasons — and  a  guessing  as  to  who 
the  visitor  might  be.  It  was  some  military  gentleman 
from  the  camp  perhaps?  No;  that  was  impossible. 
It  was  the  parson  ?  No ;  he  would  not  come  at 
dinner-time.  It  was  the  well-informed  man  who 
travelled  with  drapery  and  the  best  Birmingham  ear- 
rings ?  Not  at  all ;  his  time  was  not  till  Thursday  at 
three.  Before  they  could  think  further  the  visitor 
moved  forward  another  step,  and  the  diners  got  a 
glimpse  of  him  through  the  same  friendly  chink  that 
had  afforded  him  a  view  of  the  Garland  dinner-table. 

'  O  !  it  is  only  Loveday.' 

This  approximation  to  nobody  was  the  miller  above 
mentioned,  a  hale  man  of  fifty-five  or  sixty — hale  all 
through,  as  many  were  in  those  days,  and  not  merely 
veneered  with  purple  by  exhilarating  victuals  and  drinks, 
though  the  latter  were  not  at  all  despised  by  him.  His 
face  was  indeed  rather  pale  than  otherwise,  for  he  had 
just  come  from  the  mill.  It  was  capable  of  immense 
changes  of  expression :  mobility  was  its  essence,  a  roll 
of  flesh  forming  a  buttress  to  his  nose  on  each  side, 
and  a  deep  ravine  lying  between  his  lower  lip  and  the 
tumulus  represented  by  his  chin.  These  fleshy  lumps 
moved  stealthily,  as  if  of  their  own  accord,  whenever 
his  fancy  was  tickled. 

His  eyes  having  lighted  on  the  table-cloth,  plates, 
and  viands,  he  found  himself  in  a  position  which  had 
a  sensible  awkwardness  for  a  modest  man  who  always 
liked  to  enter  only  at  seasonable  times  the  presence  of 
a  girl  of  such  pleasantly  soft  ways  as  Anne  Garland, 
she  who  could  make  apples  seem  like  peaches,  and 
throw  over  her  shillings  the  glamour  of  guineas  when 
she  paid  him  for  flour. 

'  Dinner  is  over,  neighbour  Loveday ;  please  come 
in,'  said  the  widow,  seeing  his  case.  The  miller  said 
something  about  coming  in  presently ;  but  Anne  pressed 
him  to  stay,  with  a  tender  motion  of  her  lip  as  it  played 

14 


THE   TRUMPET-MAJOR 

on  the  verge  of  a  solicitous  smile  without  quite  lapsing 
into  one — her  habitual  manner  when  speaking. 

Loveday  took  off  his  low-crowned  hat  and  advanced. 
He  had  not  come  about  pigs  or  fowls  this  time.  '  You 
have  been  looking  out,  like  the  rest  o'  us,  no  doubt, 
Mrs.  Garland,  at  the  mampus  of  soldiers  that  have 
come  upon  the  down  ?  Well,  one  of  the  horse  regi- 
ments is  the th  Dragoons,  my  son  John's  regiment, 

you  know.' 

The  announcement,  though  it  interested  them,  did 
not  create  such  an  effect  as  the  father  of  John  had 
seemed  to  anticipate;  but  Anne,  who  liked  to  say 
pleasant  things,  replied,  '  The  dragoons  looked  nicer 
than  the  foot,  or  the  German  cavalry  either.' 

'  They  are  a  handsome  body  of  men,'  said  the  miller 
in  a  disinterested  voice.  '  Faith !  I  didn't  know  they 
were  coming,  though  it  may  be  in  the  newspaper  all  the 
time.  But  old  Derriman  keeps  it  so  long  that  we  never 
know  things  till  they  be  in  everybody's  mouth.' 

This  Derriman  was  a  squireen  living  near,  who  was 
chiefly  distinguished  in  the  present  warlike  time  by 
having  a  nephew  in  the  yeomanry. 

'  We  were  told  that  the  yeomanry  went  along  the 
turnpike  road  yesterday,'  said  Anne;  'and  they  say 
that  they  were  a  pretty  sight,  and  quite  soldierly.' 

*  Ah  !  well — they  be  not  regulars,'  said  Miller  Love- 
day,   keeping  back  harsher  criticism    as    uncalled   for. 
But  inflamed  by  the  arrival  of  the  dragoons,  which  had 
been  the  exciting  cause  of  his  call,  his  mind  would  not 
go  to  yeomanry.     '  John  has  not  been  home  these  five 
years,'  he  said. 

« And  what  rank  does  he  hold  now  ?  '  said  the  widow. 

*  He's  trumpet-major,  ma'am ;  and  a  good  musician.' 
The  miller,  who  was  a  good  father,  went  on  to  explain 
that  John  had  seen  some  service,  too.     He  had  enlisted 
when  the  regiment  was  lying  in  this  neighbourhood, 
more  than  eleven  years  before,  which  put  his  father  out 

15 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

of  temper  with  him,  as  he  had  wished  him  to  follow  on 
at  the  mill.  But  as  the  lad  had  enlisted  seriously,  and 
as  he  had  often  said  that  he  would  be  a  soldier,  the 
miller  had  thought  that  he  would  let  Jack  take  his 
chance  in  the  profession  of  his  choice. 

Loveday  had  two  sons,  and  the  second  was  now 
brought  into  the  conversation  by  a  remark  of  Anne's 
that  neither  of  them  seemed  to  care  for  the  miller's 
business. 

'  No,'  said  Loveday  in  a  less  buoyant  tone.  '  Robert, 
you  see,  must  needs  go  to  sea.' 

*  He  is  much  younger  than  his  brother  ? '  said  Mrs. 
Garland. 

About  four  years,  the  miller  told  her.  His  soldier 
son  was  two-and-thirty,  and  Bob  was  twenty-eight. 
When  Bob  returned  from  his  present  voyage,  he  was  to 
be  persuaded  to  stay  and  assist  as  grinder  in  the  mill, 
and  go  to  sea  no  more. 

*  A  sailor-miller  ! '  said  Anne. 

'  O,  he  knows  as  much  about  mill  business  as  I  do,' 
said  Loveday;  'he  was  intended  for  it,  you  know,  like 
John.  But,  bless  me ! '  he  continued,  '  I  am  before  my 
story.  I'm  come  more  particularly  to  ask  you,  ma'am, 
and  you,  Anne  my  honey,  if  you  will  join  me  and  a  few 
friends  at  a  leetle  homely  supper  that  I  shall  gi'e  to 
please  the  chap  now  he's  come  ?  I  can  do  no  less  than 
have  a  bit  of  a  randy,  as  the  saying  is,  now  that  he's 
here  safe  and  sound.' 

Mrs.  Garland  wanted  to  catch  her  daughter's  eye; 
she  was  in  some  doubt  about  her  answer.  But  Anne's 
eye  was  not  to  be  caught,  for  she  hated  hints,  nods, 
and  calculations  of  any  kind  in  matters  which  should 
be  regulated  by  impulse ;  and  the  matron  replied,  '  If 
so  be  'tis  possible,  we'll  be  there.  You  will  tell  us 
the  day?' 

He  would,  as  soon  as  he  had  seen  son  John. 
*  'Twill  be  rather  untidy,  you  know,  owing  to  my  having 

16 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

no  womenfolks  in  the  house ;  and  my  man  David  is  a 
poor  dunder-headed  feller  for  getting  up  a  feast.  Poor 
chap !  his  sight  is  bad,  that's  true,  and  he's  very  good 
at  making  the  beds,  and  oiling  the  legs  of  the  chairs 
and  other  furniture,  or  I  should  have  got  rid  of  him 
years  ago/ 

'  You  should  have  a  woman  to  attend  to  the  house, 
Loveday,'  said  the  widow. 

'  Yes,  I  should,  but — .  Well,  'tis  a  fine  day,  neigh- 
bours. Hark !  I  fancy  I  hear  the  noise  of  pots  and 
pans  up  at  the  camp,  or  my  ears  deceive  me.  Pool- 
fellows,  they  must  be  hungry  !  Good  day  t'ye,  ma'am.' 
And  the  miller  went  away. 

All  that  afternoon  Overcombe  continued  in  a  ferment 
of  interest  in  the  military  investment,  which  brought  the 
excitement  of  an  invasion  without  the  strife.  There 
were  great  discussions  on  the  merits  and  appearance 
of  the  soldiery.  The  event  opened  up  to  the  girls  un- 
bounded possibilities  of  adoring  and  being  adored,  and 
to  the  young  men  an  embarrassment  of  dashing  acquaint- 
ances which  quite  superseded  falling  in  love.  Thirteen 
of  these  lads  incontinently  stated  within  the  space  of  a 
quarter  of  an  hour  that  there  was  nothing  in  the  world 
like  going  for  a  soldier.  The  young  women  stated  little, 
but  perhaps  thought  the  more ;  though,  in  justice,  they 
glanced  round  towards  the  encampment  from  the  cor- 
ners of  their  blue  and  brown  eyes  in  the  most  demure 
and  modest  manner  that  could  be  desired. 

In  the  evening  the  village  was  lively  with  soldiers' 
wives;  a  tree  full  of  starlings  would  not  have  rivalled 
the  chatter  that  was  going  on.  These  ladies  were  very 
brilliantly  dressed,  with  more  regard  for  colour  than  for 
material.  Purple,  red,  and  blue  bonnets  were  numerous, 
with  bunches  of  cocks'  feathers;  and  one  had  on  an 
Arcadian  hat  of  green  sarcenet,  turned  up  in  front  to 
show  her  cap  underneath.  It  had  once  belonged  to  an 
officer's  lady,  and  was  not  so  much  stained,  except  where 

17  B 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

the  occasional  storms  of  rain,  incidental  to  a  military 
life,  had  caused  the  green  to  run  and  stagnate  in  curious 
watermarks  like  peninsulas  and  islands.  Some  of  the 
prettiest  of  these  butterfly  wives  had  been  fortunate 
enough  to  get  lodgings  in  the  cottages,  and  were  thus 
spared  the  necessity  of  living  in  huts  and  tents  on  the 
down.  Those  who  had  not  been  so  fortunate  were  not 
rendered  more  amiable  by  the  success  of  their  sisters- 
in-arms,  and  called  them  names  which  brought  forth 
retorts  and  rejoinders  ;  till  the  end  of  these  alternative 
remarks  seemed  dependent  upon  the  close  of  the  day. 

One  of  these  new  arrivals,  who  had  a  rosy  nose  and 
a  slight  thickness  of  voice,  which,  as  Anne  said,  she 
couldn't  help,  poor  thing,  seemed  to  have  seen  so  much 
of  the  world,  and  to  have  been  in  so  many  campaigns, 
that  Anne  would  have  liked  to  take  her  into  their  own 
house,  so  as  to  acquire  some  of  that  practical  know- 
ledge of  the  history  of  England  which  the  lady  possessed, 
and  which  could  not  be  got  from  books.  But  the 
narrowness  of  Mrs.  Garland's  rooms  absolutely  forbade 
this,  and  the  houseless  treasury  of  experience  was  obliged 
to  look  for  quarters  elsewhere. 

That  night  Anne  retired  early  to  bed.  The  events  of 
the  day,  cheerful  as  they  were  in  themselves,  had  been 
unusual  enough  to  give  her  a  slight  headache.  Before 
getting  into  bed  she  went  to  the  window,  and  lifted  the 
white  curtains  that  hung  across  it.  The  moon  was 
shining,  though  not  as  yet  into  the  valley,  but  just  peep- 
ing above  the  ridge  of  the  down,  where  the  white  cones 
of  the  encampment  were  softly  touched  by  its  light. 
The  quarter-guard  and  foremost  tents  showed  themselves 
prominently;  but  the  body  of  the  camp,  the  officers' 
tents,  kitchens,  canteen,  and  appurtenances  in  the  rear 
were  blotted  out  by  the  ground,  because  of  its  height 
above  her.  She  could  discern  the  forms  of  one  or  two 
sentries  moving  to  and  fro  across  the  disc  of  the  moon 
at  intervals.  She  could  hear  the  frequent  shuffling  and 

18 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

tossing  of  the  horses  tied  to  the  pickets ;  and  in  the 
other  direction  the  miles-long  voice  of  the  sea,  whisper- 
ing a  louder  note  at  those  points  of  its  length  where 
hampered  in  its  ebb  and  flow  by  some  jutting  promon- 
tory or  group  of  boulders.  Louder  sounds  suddenly 
broke  this  approach  to  silence;  they  came  from  the 
camp  of  dragoons,  were  taken  up  further  to  the  right  by 
the  camp  of  the  Hanoverians,  and  further  on  still  by  the 
body  of  infantry.  It  was  tattoo.  Feeling  no  desire  to 
sleep,  she  listened  yet  longer,  looked  at  Charles's  Wain 
swinging  over  the  church  tower,  and  the  moon  ascending 
higher  and  higher  over  the  right-hand  streets  of  tents, 
where,  instead  of  parade  and  bustle,  there  was  nothing 
going  on  but  snores  and  dreams,  the  tired  soldiers  lying 
by  this  time  under  their  proper  canvases,  radiating  like 
spokes  from  the  pole  of  each  tent. 

At  last  Anne  gave  up  thinking,  and  retired  like  the 
rest.  The  night  wore  on,  and,  except  the  occasional 
*  All's  well '  of  the  sentries,  no  voice  was  heard  in  the 
camp  or  in  the  village  below. 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 


THE  MILL  BECOMES 
AN  IMPORTANT  CENTRE 

OF  OPERATIONS 

III 

1  HE  next  morning  Miss  Garland  awoke  with  an  im- 
pression that  something  more  than  usual  was  going  on, 
and  she  recognized  as  soon  as  she  could  clearly  reason 
that  the  proceedings,  whatever  they  might  be,  lay  not 
far  away  from  her  bedroom  window.  The  sounds  were 
chiefly  those  of  pickaxes  and  shovels.  Anne  got  up, 
and,  lifting  the  corner  of  the  curtain  about  an  inch, 
peeped  out. 

A  number  of  soldiers  were  busily  engaged  in  making 
a  zigzag  path  down  the  incline  from  the  camp  to  the 
river-head  at  the  back  of  the  house,  and  judging  from 
the  quantity  of  work  already  got  through  they  must 
have  begun  very  early.  Squads  of  men  were  working 
at  several  equidistant  points  in  the  proposed  pathway, 
and  by  the  time  that  Anne  had  dressed  herself  each 
section  of  the  length  had  been  connected  with  those 
above  and  below  it,  so  that  a  continuous  and  easy  track 
was  formed  from  the  crest  of  the  down  to  the  bottom  of 
the  steep. 

The  down  rested  on  a  bed  of  solid  chalk,  and  the 
surface  exposed  by  the  roadmakers  formed  a  white 
ribbon,  serpenting  from  top  to  bottom. 

20 


THE   TRUMPET-MAJOR 

Then  the  relays  of  working  soldiers  all  disappeared ; 
and,  not  long  after,  a  troop  of  dragoons  in  watering  order 
rode  forward  at  the  top  and  began  to  wind  down  the 
new  path.  They  came  lower  and  closer,  and  at  last  were 
immediately  beneath  her  window,  gathering  themselves 
up  on  the  space  by  the  mill-pond.  A  number  of  the 
horses  entered  it  at  the  shallow  part,  drinking  and  splash- 
ing and  tossing  about.  Perhaps  as  many  as  thirty,  half 
of  them  with  riders  on  their  backs,  were  in  the  water  at 
one  time ;  the  thirsty  animals  drank,  stamped,  flounced, 
and  drank  again,  letting  the  clear,  cool  water  dribble 
luxuriously  from  their  mouths.  Miller  Loveday  was  look- 
ing on  from  over  his  garden  hedge,  and  many  admiring 
villagers  were  gathered  around. 

Gazing  up  higher,  Anne  saw  other  troops  descending 
by  the  new  road  from  the  camp,  those  which  had  already 
been  to  the  pond  making  room  for  these  by  withdrawing 
along  the  village  lane  and  returning  to  the  top  by  a 
circuitous  route. 

Suddenly  the  miller  exclaimed,  as  in  fulfilment  of  ex- 
pectation, '  Ah,  John,  my  boy ;  good  morning  ! '  And 
the  reply  of '  Morning,  father,'  came  from  a  well-mounted 
soldier  near  him,  who  did  not,  however,  form  one  of  the 
watering  party.  Anne  could  not  see  his  face  very  clearly, 
but  she  had  no  doubt  that  this  was  John  Loveday. 

There  were  tones  in  the  voice  which  reminded  her  of 
old  times,  those  of  her  very  infancy,  when  Johnny  Love- 
day  had  been  top  boy  in  the  village  school,  and  had 
wanted  to  learn  painting  of  her  father.  The  deeps  and 
shallows  of  the  mill-pond  being  better  known  to  him 
than  to  any  other  man  in  the  camp,  he  had  apparently 
come  down  on  that  account,  and  was  cautioning  some  of 
the  horsemen  against  riding  too  far  in  towards  the  mill- 
head. 

Since  her  childhood  and  his  enlistment  Anne  had  seen 
him  only  once,  and  then  but  casually,  when  he  was  home 
on  a  short  furlough.  His  figure  was  not  much  changed 

21 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

from  what  it  had  been ;  but  the  many  sunrises  and  sun- 
sets which  had  passed  since  that  day,  developing  her 
from  a  comparative  child  to  womanhood,  had  abstracted 
some  of  his  angularities,  reddened  his  skin,  and  given 
him  a  foreign  look.  It  was  interesting  to  see  what  years 
of  training  and  service  had  done  for  this  man.  Few 
would  have  supposed  that  the  white  and  the  blue 
coats  of  miller  and  soldier  covered  the  forms  of  father 
and  son. 

Before  the  last  troop  of  dragoons  rode  off  they  were 
welcomed  in  a  body  by  Miller  Loveday,  who  still  stood 
in  his  outer  garden,  this  being  a  plot  lying  below  the  mill- 
tail,  and  stretching  to  the  water-side.  It  was  just  the 
time  of  year  when  cherries  are  ripe,  and  hang  in  clusters 
under  their  dark  leaves.  While  the  troopers  loitered  on 
their  horses,  and  chatted  to  the  miller  across  the  stream, 
he  gathered  bunches  of  the  fruit,  and  held  them  up  over 
the  garden  hedge  for  the  acceptance  of  anybody  who 
would  have  them ;  whereupon  the  soldiers  rode  into  the 
water  to  where  it  had  washed  holes  in  the  garden  bank, 
and,  reining  their  horses  there,  caught  the  cherries  in 
their  forage-caps,  or  received  bunches  of  them  on  the 
ends  of  their  switches,  with  the  dignified  laugh  that 
became  martial  men  when  stooping  to  slightly  boyish 
amusement.  It  was  a  cheerful,  careless,  unpremeditated 
half-hour,  which  returned  like  the  scent  of  a  flower  to  the 
memories  of  some  of  those  who  enjoyed  it,  even  at  a 
distance  of  many  years  after,  when  they  lay  wounded 
and  weak  in  foreign  lands. 

Then  dragoons  and  horses  wheeled  off  as  the  others 
had  done ;  and  troops  of  the  German  Legion  next  came 
down  and  entered  in  panoramic  procession  the  space 
below  Anne's  eyes,  as  if  on  purpose  to  gratify  her. 
These  were  notable  by  their  mustachios,  and  queues 
wound  tightly  with  brown  ribbon  to  the  level  of  their 
broad  shoulder-blades.  They  were  charmed,  as  the 
others  had  been,  by  the  head  and  neck  of  Miss  Garland 

22 


THE   TRUMPET-MAJOR 

in  the  little  square  window  overlooking  the  scene  of 
operations,  and  saluted  her  with  devoted  foreign  civility, 
and  in  such  overwhelming  numbers  that  the  modest 
girl  suddenly  withdrew  herself  into  the  room,  and  had 
a  private  blush  between  the  chest  of  drawers  and  the 
washing-stand. 

When  she  came  downstairs  her  mother  said,  '  I  have 
been  thinking  what  I  ought  to  wear  to  Miller  Loveday's 
to-night.' 

'  To  Miller  Loveday's  ?  '  said  Anne. 

'  Yes.  The  party  is  to-night.  He  has  been  in  here 
this  morning  to  tell  me  that  he  has  seen  his  son,  and 
they  have  fixed  this  evening.' 

*  Do  you  think  we  ought  to  go,  mother  ?  '  said  Anne 
slowly,  and  looking  at  the  smaller  features  of  the  window- 
flowers. 

« Why  not  ?  '  said  Mrs.  Garland. 

'  He  will  only  have  men  there  except  ourselves,  will 
he  ?  And  shall  we  be  right  to  go  alone  among  'em  ? ' 

Anne  had  not  recovered  from  the  ardent  gaze  of 
the  gallant  York  Hussars,  whose  voices  reached  her  even 
now  in  converse  with  Loveday. 

*  La,  Anne,  how  proud  you  are ! '  said  Widow  Gar- 
land.    'Why,  isn't  he  our  nearest  neighbour  and  our 
landlord  ?  and  don't  he  always  fetch  our  faggots  from  the 
wood,  and  keep  us  in  vegetables  for  next  to  nothing  ? ' 

'  That's  true,'  said  Anne. 

'  Well,  we  can't  be  distant  with  the  man.  And  if 
the  enemy  land  next  autumn,  as  everybody  says  they 
will,  we  shall  have  quite  to  depend  upon  the  miller's 
waggon  and  horses.  He's  our  only  friend.' 

*  Yes,  so  he  is,'  said  Anna     '  And  you  had  better 
go,  mother;  and  I'll  stay  at  home.     They  will  be  all 
men  ;  and  I  don't  like  going.* 

Mrs.  Garland  reflected.  'Well,  if  you  don't  want 
to  go,  I  don't,'  she  said.  '  Perhaps,  as  you  are  growing 
up,  it  would  be  better  to  stay  at  home  this  time.  Your 

23 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

father  was  a  professional  man,  certainly.'  Having 
spoken  as  a  mother,  she  sighed  as  a  woman. 

'  Why  do  you  sigh,  mother  ? ' 

'You  are  so  prim  and  stiff  about  everything.' 

'  Very  well — we'll  go.' 

1  O  no — I  am  not  sure  that  we  ought.  I  did  not 
promise,  and  there  will  be  no  trouble  in  keeping  away.' 

Anne  apparently  did  not  feel  certain  of  her  own 
opinion,  and,  instead  of  supporting  or  contradicting, 
looked  thoughtfully  down,  and  abstractedly  brought  her 
hands  together  on  her  bosom,  till  her  fingers  met  tip 
to  tip. 

As  the  day  advanced  the  young  woman  and  her 
mother  became  aware  that  great  preparations  were  in 
progress  in  the  miller's  wing  of  the  house.  The  par- 
titioning between  the  Lovedays  and  the  Garlands  was 
not  very  thorough,  consisting  in  many  cases  of  a  simple 
screwing  up  of  the  doors  in  the  dividing  walls ;  and 
thus  when  the  mill  began  any  new  performances  they 
proclaimed  themselves  at  once  in  the  more  private 
dwelling.  The  smell  of  Miller  Loveday's  pipe  came 
down  Mrs.  Garland's  chimney  of  an  evening  with  the 
greatest  regularity.  Every  time  that  he  poked  his  fire 
they  knew  from  the  vehemence  or  deliberateness  of  the 
blows  the  precise  state  of  his  mind ;  and  when  he  wound 
his  clock  on  Sunday  nights  the  whirr  of  that  monitor 
reminded  the  widow  to  wind  hers.  This  transit  of 
noises  was  most  perfect  where  Loveday's  lobby  adjoined 
Mrs.  Garland's  pantry;  and  Anne,  who  was  occupied 
for  some  time  in  the  latter  apartment,  enjoyed  the 
privilege  of  hearing  the  visitors  arrive  and  of  catching 
stray  sounds  and  words  without  the  connecting  phrases 
that  made  them  entertaining,  to  judge  from  the  laughter 
they  evoked.  The  arrivals  passed  through  the  house 
and  went  into  the  garden,  where  they  had  tea  in  a  large 
summer-house,  an  occasional  blink  of  bright  colour, 
through  the  foliage,  being  all  that  was  visible  of  the 

24 


THE   TRUMPET-MAJOR 

assembly  from  Mrs.  Garland's  windows.  When  it  grew 
dusk  they  all  could  be  heard  coming  indoors  to  finish 
the  evening  in  the  parlour. 

Then  there  was  an  intensified  continuation  of  the 
above-mentioned  signs  of  enjoyment,  talkings  and  haw- 
haws,  runnings  upstairs  and  runnings  down,  a  slamming 
of  doors  and  a  clinking  of  cups  and  glasses ;  till  the 
proudest  adjoining  tenant  without  friends  on  his  own 
side  of  the  partition  might  have  been  tempted  to  wish 
for  entrance  to  that  merry  dwelling,  if  only  to  know  the 
cause  of  these  fluctuations  of  hilarity,  and  to  see  if  the 
guests  were  really  so  numerous,  and  the  observations  so 
very  amusing  as  they  seemed. 

The  stagnation  of  life  on  the  Garland  side  of  the 
party-wall  began  to  have  a  very  gloomy  effect  by  the 
contrast.  When,  about  half-past  nine  o'clock,  one  of 
these  tantalizing  bursts  of  gaiety  had  resounded  for  a 
longer  time  than  usual,  Anne  said,  '  I  believe,  mother, 
that  you  are  wishing  you  had  gone.' 

' 1  own  to  feeling  that  it  would  have  been  very 
cheerful  if  we  had  joined  in,'  said  Mrs.  Garland,  in  a 
hankering  tone.  '  I  was  rather  too  nice  in  listening 
to  you  and  not  going.  The  parson  never  calls  upon 
us  except  in  his  spiritual  capacity.  Old  Derriman  is 
hardly  genteel;  and  there's  nobody  left  to  speak  to. 
Lonely  people  must  accept  what  company  they  can  get.' 

'  Or  do  without  it  altogether.' 

'That's  not  natural,  Anne;  and  I  am  surprised  to 
hear  a  young  woman  like  you  say  such  a  thing.  Nature 
will  not  be  stifled  in  that  way.  .  .  .'  (  Song  and  powerful 
chorus  heard  through  partition.)  '  I  declare  the  room 
on  the  other  side  of  the  wall  seems  quite  a  paradise 
compared  with  this.' 

*  Mother,  you  are  quite  a  girl,'  said  Anne  in  slightly 
superior  accents.  « Go  in  and  join  them  by  all  means.' 

'  O  no — not  now,'  said  her  mother,  resignedly  shaking 
her  head.  « It  is  too  late  now.  We  ought  to  have 

25 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

taken  advantage  of  the  invitation.  They  would  look 
hard  at  me  as  a  poor  mortal  who  had  no  real  business 
there,  and  the  miller  would  say,  with  his  broad  smile, 
"  Ah,  you  be  obliged  to  come  round." ' 

While  the  sociable  and  unaspiring  Mrs.  Garland 
continued  thus  to  pass  the  evening  in  two  places,  her 
body  in  her  own  house  and  her  mind  in  the  miller's, 
somebody  knocked  at  the  door,  and  directly  after  the 
elder  Loveday  himself  was  admitted  to  the  room.  He 
was  dressed  in  a  suit  between  grand  and  gay,  which 
he  used  for  such  occasions  as  the  present,  and  his 
blue  coat,  yellow  and  red  waistcoat  with  the  three  lower 
buttons  unfastened,  steel-buckled  shoes  and  speckled 
stockings,  became  him  very  well  in  Mrs.  Martha  Gar- 
land's eyes. 

'  Your  servant,  ma'am,'  said  the  miller,  adopting  as  a 
matter  of  propriety  the  raised  standard  of  politeness 
required  by  his  higher  costume.  *  Now,  begging  your 
pardon,  I  can't  hae  this.  'Tis  unnatural  that  you  two 
ladies  should  be  biding  here  and  we  under  the  same 
roof  making  merry  without  ye.  Your  husband,  poor 
man — lovely  picters  that  a'  would  make  to  be  sure — 
would  have  been  in  with  us  long  ago  if  he  had  been  in 
your  place.  I  can  take  no  nay  from  ye,  upon  my  honour. 
You  and  maidy  Anne  must  come  in,  if  it  be  only  for 
half-an-hour.  John  and  his  friends  have  got  passes  till 
twelve  o'clock  to-night,  and,  saving  a  few  of  our  own 
village  folk,  the  lowest  visitor  present  is  a  very  genteel 
German  corporal.  If  you  should  hae  any  misgivings 
on  the  score  of  respectability,  ma'am,  we'll  pack  off  the 
underbred  ones  into  the  back  kitchen.' 

Widow  Garland  and  Anne  looked  yes  at  each  other 
after  this  appeal. 

'  We'll  follow  you  in  a  few  minutes/  said  the  elder, 
smiling ;  and  she  rose  with  Anne  to  go  upstairs. 

1  No,  I'll  wait  for  ye,'  said  the  miller  doggedly ;  *  or 
perhaps  you'll  alter  your  mind  again.' 

26 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

While  the  mother  and  daughter  were  upstairs  dress- 
ing, and  saying  laughingly  to  each  other,  *  Well,  we 
must  go  now,'  as  if  they  hadn't  wished  to  go  all  the 
evening,  other  steps  were  heard  in  the  passage;  and 
the  miller  cried  from  below,  'Your  pardon,  Mrs.  Gar- 
land; but  my  son  John  has  come  to  help  fetch  ye. 
Shall  I  ask  him  in  till  ye  be  ready  ? ' 

*  Certainly ;  I  shall  be  down  in  a  minute,'  screamed 
Anne's  mother  in  a  slanting  voice  towards  the  staircase. 

When  she  descended,  the  outline  of  the  trumpet- 
major  appeared  half-way  down  the  passage.  '  This  is 
John,'  said  the  miller  simply.  '  John,  you  can  mind 
Mrs.  Martha  Garland  very  well  ? ' 

{ Very  well,  indeed,'  said  the  dragoon,  coming  in  a 
little  further.  « I  should  have  called  to  see  her  last  time, 
but  I  was  only  home  a  week.  How  is  your  little  girl, 
ma'am  ? ' 

Mrs.  Garland  said  Anne  was  quite  well.  *  She  is 
grown-up  now.  She  will  be  down  in  a  moment.' 

There  was  a  slight  noise  of  military  heels  without 
the  door,  at  which  the  trumpet-major  went  and  put  his 
head  outside,  and  said,  '  All  right — coming  in  a  minute,' 
when  voices  in  the  darkness  replied,  *  No  hurry.' 

{  More  friends  ?  '  said  Mrs.  Garland. 

4  O,  it  is  only  Buck  and  Jones  come  to  fetch  me, 
said  the  soldier.  «  Shall  I  ask  'em  in  a  minute,  Mrs. 
Garland,  ma'am  ? ' 

*  O    yes,'   said   the   lady ;    and   the   two   interesting 
forms  of  Trumpeter  Buck  and  Saddler-sergeant  Jones 
then  came  forward  in  the  most  friendly  manner ;  where- 
upon other  steps  were  heard  without,  and  it  was  dis- 
covered that  Sergeant-master-tailor  Brett  and   Farrie'r- 
extraordinary  Johnson  were  outside,   having   come    to 
fetch  Messrs.  Buck  and  Jones,  as  Buck  and  Jones  had 
come  to  fetch  the  trumpet-major. 

As  there  seemed  a  possibility  of  Mrs.  Garland's  small 
passage  being  choked  up  with  human  figures  personally 

27 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

unknown  to  her,  she  was  relieved  to  hear  Anne  coming 
downstairs. 

'  Here's  my  little  girl,'  said  Mrs.  Garland,  and  the 
trumpet-major  looked  with  a  sort  of  awe  upon  the  muslin 
apparition  who  came  forward,  and  stood  quite  dumb 
before  her.  Anne  recognized  him  as  the  trooper  she 
had  seen  from  her  window,  and  welcomed  him  kindly. 
There  was  something  in  his  honest  face  which  made  her 
feel  instantly  at  home  with  him. 

At  this  frankness  of  manner  Loveday — who  was  not 
a  ladies'  man — blushed,  and  made  some  alteration  in 
his  bodily  posture,  began  a  sentence  which  had  no  end, 
and  showed  quite  a  boy's  embarrassment.  Recovering 
himself,  he  politely  offered  his  arm,  which  Anne  took 
with  a  very  pretty  grace.  He  conducted  her  through  his 
comrades,  who  glued  themselves  perpendicularly  to  the 
wall  to  let  her  pass,  and  then  they  went  out  of  the  door, 
her  mother  following  with  the  miller,  and  supported  by 
the  body  of  troopers,  the  latter  walking  with  the  usual 
cavalry  gait,  as  if  their  thighs  were  rather  too  long  for 
them.  Thus  they  crossed  the  threshold  of  the  mill-house 
and  up  the  passage,  the  paving  of  which  was  worn  into 
a  gutter  by  the  ebb  and  flow  of  feet  that  had  been  going 
on  there  ever  since  Tudor  times. 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 


WHO  WERE  PRESENT 
AT  THE  MILLER'S 

LITTLE  ENTERTAINMENT 

IV 

WHEN  the  group  entered  the  presence  of  the  company 
a  lull  in  the  conversation  was  caused  by  the  sight  of  new 
visitors,  and  (of  course)  by  the  charm  of  Anne's  appear- 
ance ;  until  the  old  men,  who  had  daughters  of  their  own, 
perceiving  that  she  was  only  a  half-formed  girl,  resumed 
their  tales  and  toss-potting  with  unconcern. 

Miller  Loveday  had  fraternized  with  half  the  soldiers 
in  the  camp  since  their  arrival,  and  the  effect  of  this 
upon  his  party  was  striking — both  chromatically  and 
otherwise.  Those  among  the  guests  who  first  attracted 
the  eye  were  the  sergeants  and  sergeant-majors  of  Love- 
day's  regiment,  fine  hearty  men,  who  sat  facing  the 
candles,  entirely  resigned  to  physical  comfort.  Then 
there  were  other  non-commissioned  officers,  a  German, 
two  Hungarians,  and  a  Swede,  from  the  foreign  hussars 
— young  men  with  a  look  of  sadness  on  their  faces,  as  if 
they  did  not  much  like  serving  so  far  from  home.  All 
of  them  spoke  English  fairly  well.  Old  age  was  repre- 
sented by  Simon  Burden  the  pensioner,  and  the  shady  side 
of  fifty  by  Corporal  Tullidge,  his  friend  and  neighbour, 
who  was  hard  of  hearing,  and  sat  with  his  hat  on  over  a 
red  cotton  handkerchief  that  was  wound  several  times 

29 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

round  his  head.  These  two  veterans  were  employed  as 
watchers  at  the  neighbouring  beacon,  which  had  lately 
been  erected  by  the  Lord-Lieutenant  for  firing  whenever 
the  descent  on  the  coast  should  be  made.  They  lived  in 
a  little  hut  on  the  hill,  close  by  the  heap  of  faggots  ;  but 
to-night  they  had  found  deputies  to  watch  in  their  stead. 

On  a  lower  plane  of  experience  and  qualifications 
came  neighbour  James  Comfort,  of  the  Volunteers,  a 
soldier  by  courtesy,  but  a  blacksmith  by  rights;  also 
William  Tremlett  and  Anthony  Cripplestraw,  of  the  local 
forces.  The  two  latter  men  of  war  were  dressed  merely 
as  villagers,  and  looked  upon  the  regulars  from  a  humble 
position  in  the  background.  The  remainder  of  the  party 
was  made  up  of  a  neighbouring  dairyman  or  two,  and  their 
wives,  invited  by  the  miller,  as  Anne  was  glad  to  see,  that 
she  and  her  mother  should  not  be  the  only  women  there. 

The  elder  Loveday  apologized  in  a  whisper  to  Mrs. 
Garland  for  the  presence  of  the  inferior  villagers.  '  But 
as  they  are  learning  to  be  brave  defenders  of  their  home 
and  country,  ma'am,  as  fast  as  they  can  master  the  drill, 
and  have  worked  for  me  off  and  on  these  many  years, 
I've  asked  'em  in,  and  thought  you'd  excuse  it.' 

'  Certainly,  Miller  Loveday,'  said  the  widow. 

'  And  the  same  of  old  Burden  and  Tullidge.  They 
have  served  well  and  long  in  the  Foot,  and  even  now 
have  a  hard  time  of  it  up  at  the  beacon  in  wet  weather. 
So  after  giving  them  a  meal  in  the  kitchen  I  just  asked 
'em  in  to  hear  the  singing.  They  faithfully  promise  that 
as  soon  as  ever  the  gunboats  appear  in  view,  and  they 
have  fired  the  beacon,  to  run  down  here  first,  in  case  we 
shouldn't  see  it.  'Tis  worth  while  to  be  friendly  with 
'em,  you  see,  though  their  tempers  be  queer.' 

'  Quite  worth  while,  miller,'  said  she. 

Anne  was  rather  embarrassed  by  the  presence  of  the 
regular  military  in  such  force,  and  at  first  confined  her 
words  to  the  dairymen's  wives  she  was  acquainted  with, 
and  to  the  two  old  soldiers  of  the  parish. 

3° 


THE   TRUMPET-MAJOR 

{ Why  didn't  ye  speak  to  me  afore,  chiel  ? '  said  one 
of  these,  Corporal  Tullidge,  the  elderly  man  with  the 
hat,  while  she  was  talking  to  old  Simon  Burden.  « I 
met  ye  in  the  lane  yesterday,'  he  added  reproachfully, 
'  but  ye  didn't  notice  me  at  all.' 

'  I  am  very  sorry  for  it,'  she  said ;  but,  being  afraid 
to  shout  in  such  a  company,  the  effect  of  her  remark 
upon  the  corporal  was  as  if  she  had  not  spoken  at  all. 

*  You  was  coming  along  with  yer  head  full  of  some 
high  notions  or  other  no  doubt,'  continued  the  uncom- 
promising corporal  in  the  same  loud  voice.  '  Ah,  'tis 
the  young  bucks  that  get  all  the  notice  nowadays,  and 
old  folks  are  quite  forgot !  I  can  mind  well  enough  how 
young  Bob  Loveday  used  to  lie  in  wait  for  ye.' 

Anne  blushed  deeply,  and  stopped  his  too  excursive 
discourse  by  hastily  saying  that  she  always  respected  old 
folks  like  him.  The  corporal  thought  she  inquired  why 
he  always  kept  his  hat  on,  and  answered  that  it  was 
because  his  head  was  injured  at  Valenciennes,  in  July, 
Ninety-three.  <  We  were  trying  to  bomb  down  the  tower, 
and  a  piece  of  the  shell  struck  me.  I  was  no  more  nor 
less  than  a  dead  man  for  two  days.  If  it  hadn't  a  been 
for  that  and  my  smashed  arm  I  should  have  come  home 
none  the  worse  for  my  five-and-twenty  years'  service.' 

'  You  have  got  a  silver  plate  let  into  yer  head,  haven't 
ye,  corpel  ?  said  Anthony  Cripplestraw,  who  had  drawn 
near.  '  I  have  heard  that  the  way  they  morticed  yer 
skull  was  a  beautiful  piece  of  workmanship.  Perhaps 
the  young  woman  would  like  to  see  the  place?  'Tis 
a  curious  sight,  Mis'ess  Anne;  you  don't  see  such  a 
wownd  every  day.' 

'  No,  thank  you,'  said  Anne  hurriedly,  dreading,  as 
did  all  the  young  people  of  Overcombe,  the  spectacle  of 
the  corporal  uncovered.  He  had  never  been  seen  in 
public  without  the  hat  and  the  handkerchief  since  his 
return  in  Ninety-four ;  and  strange  stories  were  told  of 
the  ghastliness  of  his  appearance  bare-headed,  a  little 

3* 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

boy  who  had  accidentally  beheld  him  going  to  bed  in 
that  state  having  been  frightened  into  fits. 

'Well,  if  the  young  woman  don't  want  to  see  yer 
head,  maybe  she'd  like  to  hear  yer  arm?'  continued 
Cripplestraw,  earnest  to  please  her. 

4  Hey  ?  '  said  the  corporal. 

'  Your  arm  hurt  too  ? '  cried  Anne. 

'  Knocked  to  a  pummy  at  the  same  time  as  my 
head,'  said  Tullidge  dispassionately. 

'  Rattle  yer  arm,  corpel,  and  show  her,'  said  Cripple- 
straw. 

1  Yes,  sure,'  said  the  corporal,  raising  the  limb  slowly, 
as  if  the  glory  of  exhibition  had  lost  some  of  its  novelty, 
though  he  was  willing  to  oblige.  Twisting  it  mercilessly 
about  with  his  right  hand  he  produced  a  crunching 
among  the  bones  at  every  motion,  Cripplestraw  seeming 
to  derive  great  satisfaction  from  the  ghastly  sound. 

1  How  very  shocking ! '  said  Anne,  painfully  anxious 
for  him  to  leave  off. 

<O,  it  don't  hurt  him,  bless  ye.  Do  it,  corpel?' 
said  Cripplestraw. 

'  Not  a  bit,'  said  the  corporal,  still  working  his  arm 
with  great  energy. 

'  There's  no  life  in  the  bones  at  all.  No  life  in  'em, 
I  tell  her,  corpel ! ' 

1  None  at  all.' 

'  They  be  as  loose  as  a  bag  of  ninepins,'  explained 
Cripplestraw  in  continuation.  '  You  can  feel  'em  quite 
plain,  Mis'ess  Anne.  If  ye  would  like  to,  he'll  undo 
his  sleeve  in  a  minute  to  oblege  ye  ?  ' 

'  O  no,  no,  please  not !  I  quite  understand,'  said 
the  young  woman. 

'  Do  she  want  to  hear  or  see  any  more,  or  don't 
she  ? '  the  corporal  inquired,  with  a  sense  that  his  time 
was  getting  wasted. 

Anne  explained  that  she  did  not  on  any  account; 
and  managed  to  escape  from  the  corner. 

32 


THE   TRUMPET-MAJOR 


THE  SONG  AND 

THE  STRANGER 


1  HE  trumpet-major  now  contrived  to  place  himself 
near  her,  Anne's  presence  having  evidently  been  a  great 
pleasure  to  him  since  the  moment  of  his  first  seeing  her. 
She  was  quite  at  her  ease  with  him,  and  asked  him  if  he 
thought  that  Buonaparte  would  really  come  during  the 
summer,  and  many  other  questions  which  the  gallant 
dragoon  could  not  answer,  but  which  he  nevertheless 
liked  to  be  asked.  William  Tremlett,  who  had  not  enjoyed 
a  sound  night's  rest  since  the  First  Consul's  menace 
had  become  known,  pricked  up  his  ears  at  sound  of  this 
subject,  and  inquired  if  anybody  had  seen  the  terrible 
flat-bottomed  boats  that  the  enemy  were  to  cross  in. 

'  My  brother  Robert  saw  several  of  them  paddling 
about  the  shore  the  last  time  he  passed  the  Straits  of 
Dover,'  said  the  trumpet-major ;  and  he  further  startled 
the  company  by  informing  them  that  there  were  sup- 
posed to  be  more  than  fifteen  hundred  of  these  boats, 
and  that  they  would  carry  a  hundred  men  apiece.  So 
that  a  descent  of  one  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  men 
might  be  expected  any  day  as  soon  as  Boney  had 
brought  his  plans  to  bear. 

*  Lord  ha'  mercy  upon  us  ! '  said  William  Tremlett. 
33  c 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

f  The  night-time  is  when  they  will  try  it,  if  they  try  it 
at  all/  said  old  Tullidge,  in  the  tone  of  one  whose  watch 
at  the  beacon  must,  in  the  nature  of  things,  have  given 
him  comprehensive  views  of  the  situation.  'It  is  my 
belief  that  the  point  they  will  choose  for  making  the 
shore,  is  just  over  there,'  and  he  nodded  with  indifference 
towards  a  section  of  the  coast  at  a  hideous  nearness  to 
the  house  in  which  they  were  assembled,  whereupon 
Fencible  Tremlett,  and  Cripplestraw  of  the  Locals,  tried 
to  show  no  signs  of  trepidation. 

'When  d'ye  think  'twill  be?'  said  Volunteer  Com- 
fort, the  blacksmith. 

'  I  can't  answer  to  a  day,'  said  the  corporal,  '  but  it 
will  certainly  be  in  a  down-channel  tide ;  and  instead  of 
pulling  hard  against  it,  he'll  let  his  boats  drift,  and  that 
will  bring  'em  right  into  Weymouth  Bay.  'Twill  be  a 
beautiful  stroke  of  war,  if  so  be  'tis  quietly  done  ! ' 

'  Beautiful,'  said  Cripplestraw,  moving  inside  his 
clothes.  '  But  how  if  we  should  be  all  abed,  corp'el  ? 
You  can't  expect  a  man  to  be  brave  in  his  shirt,  especi- 
ally we  Locals,  that  have  only  got  so  far  as  shoulder 
fire-locks.' 

'He's  not  coming  this  summer.  He'll  never  come 
at  all,'  said  a  tall  sergeant-major  decisively. 

Loveday  the  soldier  was  too  much  engaged  in  attend- 
ing upon  Anne  and  her  mother  to  join  in  these  sur- 
mises, bestirring  himself  to  get  the  ladies  some  of  the 
best  liquor  the  house  afforded,  which  had,  as  a  matter 
of  fact,  crossed  the  Channel  as  privately  as  Buonaparte 
wished  his  army  to  do,  and  had  been  landed  on  a  dark 
night  over  the  cliff.  After  this  he  asked  Anne  to  sing ; 
but  though  she  had  a  very  pretty  voice  in  private  per- 
formances of  that  nature,  she  declined  to  oblige  him ; 
turning  the  subject  by  making  a  hesitating  inquiry  about 
his  brother  Robert,  whom  he  had  mentioned  just  before. 

'  Robert  is  as  well  as  ever,  thank  you,  Miss  Garland,' 
he  said.  c  He  is  now  mate  of  the  brig  Pewit — rather 

34 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

young  for  such  a  command;  but  the  owner  puts  great 
trust  in  him.'  The  trumpet-major  added,  deepening  his 
thoughts  to  a  profounder  view  of  the  person  discussed, 
'  Bob  is  in  love.' 

Anne  looked  conscious,  and  listened  attentively ;  but 
Loveday  did  not  go  on. 

'  Much  ?  '  she  asked. 

'  I  can't  exactly  say.  And  the  strange  part  of  it  is  that 
he  never  tells  us  who  the  woman  is.  Nobody  knows  at  all.' 

'  He  will  tell,  of  course  ? '  said  Anne,  in  the  remote 
tone  of  a  person  with  whose  sex  such  matters  had  no 
connexion  whatever. 

Loveday  shook  his  head,  and  the  tete-a-tete  was  put 
an  end  to  by  a  burst  of  singing  from  one  of  the  sergeants, 
who  was  followed  at  the  end  of  his  song  by  others,  each 
giving  a  ditty  in  his  turn;  the  singer  standing  up  in 
front  of  the  table,  stretching  his  chin  well  into  the  air, 
as  though  to  abstract  every  possible  wrinkle  from  his 
throat,  and  then  plunging  into  the  melody.  When  this 
was  over  one  of  the  foreign  hussars — the  genteel  Ger- 
man of  Miller  Loveday's  description,  who  called  himself 
a  Hungarian,  and  in  reality  belonged  to  no  definite 
country — performed  at  Trumpet-major  Loveday's  request 
the  series  of  wild  motions  that  he  denominated  his 
national  dance,  that  Anne  might  see  what  it  was  like. 
Miss  Garland  was  the  flower  of  the  whole  company ;  the 
soldiers  one  and  all,  foreign  and  English,  seemed  to  be 
quite  charmed  by  her  presence,  as  indeed  they  well 
might  be,  considering  how  seldom  they  came  into  the 
society  of  such  as  she. 

Anne  and  her  mother  were  just  thinking  of  retiring 
to  their  own  dwelling  when  Sergeant  Stanner  of  the 

th  Foot,  who  was  recruiting  at  Budmouth,  began  a 

satirical  song : — 

When  law'-yers  strive'  to  heal'  a  breach', 
And  par'-sons  prac'-tise  what'  they  preach' ; 

35 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

Then  lit'-tle  Bo'-ney  he"ll  pounce  down', 
And  march'  his  men'  on  Lon'-don  town' ! 

Chorus.—  Rol'-li-cum  ro'-rum,  tol'-lol-lo'-rum, 
Rol'-li-cum  ro'-rum,  tol'-lol-lay. 

When  ju.s'-ti-ces'  hold  e'qual  scales', 
And  rogues'  are  on'-ly  found'  in  jails' ; 
Then  lit'tle  Bo'-ney  he'  '11  pounce  down', 
And  march'  his  men'  on  Lon'don  town'  1 

Chorus. — Re.  ii-cum  ro'-rum,  &c. 

When  rich'  men  find'  their  wealth'  a  curse', 
And  fill'  there-with'  the  poor'  man's  purse' ; 
Then  lit'-tle  Bo'-ney  he"ll  pounce  down', 
And  march'  his  men'  on  Lon'-don  town' ! 

Chorus. — Rol'-li-cum  ro'-rum,  &c. 

Poor  Stanner !  In  spite  of  his  satire,  he  fell  at  the 
bloody  battle  of  Albuera  a  few  years  after  this  pleasantly 
spent  summer  at  the  Georgian  watering-place,  being 
mortally  wounded  and  trampled  down  by  a  French 
hussar  when  the  brigade  was  deploying  into  line  under 
Beresford. 

While  Miller  Loveday  was  saying  'Well  done,  Mr. 
Stanner ! '  at  the  close  of  the  thirteenth  stanza,  which 
seemed  to  be  the  last,  and  Mr.  Stanner  was  modestly 
expressing  his  regret  that  he  could  do  no  better,  a 
stentorian  voice  was  heard  outside  the  window  shutter 
repeating, 

Rol'-li-cum  ro'-rum,  tol'-lol-lo'-rum, 
Rol'-li-cum  ro'-rum,  tol'-lol-lay'. 

The  company  was  silent  in  a  moment  at  this  rein- 
forcement, and  only  the  military  tried  not  to  look  sur- 
prised. While  all  wondered  who  the  singer  could  be 
somebody  entered  the  porch ;  the  door  opened,  and  in 
came  a  young  man,  about  the  size  and  weight  of  the 

36 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

Farnese  Hercules,  in  the  uniform  of  the  yeomanry 
cavalry. 

'  Tis  young  Squire  Derriman,  old  Mr.  Derriman's 
nephew,'  murmured  voices  in  the  background. 

Without  waiting  to  address  anybody,  or  apparently 
seeing  who  were  gathered  there,  the  colossal  man  waved 
his  cap  above  his  head  and  went  on  in  tones  that  shook 
the  window-panes : — 

When  hus'-bands  with'  their  wives'  agree', 
And  maids'  won't  wed'  from  mod'-es-ty', 
Then  lit'-tle  Bo'-ney  he"ll  pounce  down', 
And  march'  his  men'  on  Lon'-don  town'  ! 

Chorus. — Rol'-li-cum  ro'-rum,  tol'-lol-lo'-rum,  &c.,  &c. 

It  was  a  verse  which  had  been  omitted  by  the  gallant 
S  tanner,  out  of  respect  to  the  ladies. 

The  new-comer  was  red-haired  and  of  florid  com- 
plexion, and  seemed  full  of  a  conviction  that  his  whim 
of  entering  must  be  their  pleasure,  which  for  the 
moment  it  was. 

'  No  ceremony,  good  men  all,'  he  said ;  '  I  was  pass- 
ing by,  and  my  ear  was  caught  by  the  singing.  I  like 
singing ;  'tis  warming  and  cheering,  and  shall  not  be  put 
down.  I  should  like  to  hear  anybody  say  otherwise.' 

'  Welcome,  Master  Derriman,'  said  the  miller,  filling 
a  glass  and  handing  it  to  the  yeoman.  '  Come  all  the 
way  from  quarters,  then  ?  I  hardly  knowed  ye  in  your 
soldier's  clothes.  You'd  look  more  natural  with  a  spud 
in  your  hand,  sir.  I  shouldn't  ha'  known  ye  at  all  if  I 
hadn't  heard  that  you  were  called  out.' 

'  More  natural  with  a  spud ! — have  a  care,  miller,' 
said  the  young  giant,  the  fire  of  his  complexion  increasing 
to  scarlet.  ( I  don't  mean  anger,  but — but — a  soldier's 
honour,  you  know  ! ' 

The  military  in  the  background  laughed  a  little,  and 
the  yeoman  then  for  the  first  time  discovered  that  there 

37 


THE   TRUMPET-MAJOR 

were  more  regulars  present  than  one.  He  looked 
momentarily  disconcerted,  but  expanded  again  to  full 
assurance. 

'Right,  right,  Master  Derriman,  no  offence — 'twas 
only  my  joke,'  said  the  genial  miller.  '  Everybody's  a 
soldier  nowadays.  Drink  a  drap  o'  this  cordial,  and 
don't  mind  words.' 

The  young  man  drank  without  the  least  reluctance, 
and  said,  'Yes,  miller,  I  am  called  out.  Tis  ticklish 
times  for  us  soldiers  now;  we  hold  our  lives  in  our 
hands. — What  are  those  fellows  grinning  at  behind  the 
table  ? — I  say,  we  do  ! ' 

'  Staying  with  your  uncle  at  the  farm  for  a  day  or 
two,  Mr.  Derriman  ?  ' 

'  No,  no ;  as  I  told  you,  six  mile  off.  Billeted  at 
Casterbridge.  But  I  have  to  call  and  see  the  old, 
old ' 

' Gentleman  ? ' 

'  Gentleman  ! — no,  skinflint.  He  lives  upon  the 
sweepings  of  the  barton  ;  ha,  ha ! '  And  the  speaker's 
regular  white  teeth  showed  themselves  like  snow  in  a 
Dutch  cabbage.  'Well,  well,  the  profession  of  arms 
makes  a  man  proof  against  all  that.  I  take  things  as  I 
find  'em.' 

'  Quite  right,  Master  Derriman.     Another  drop  ?  ' 

'  No,  no.  I'll  take  no  more  than  is  good  for  me — no 
man  should ;  so  don't  tempt  me.' 

The  yeoman  then  saw  Anne,  and  by  an  unconscious 
gravitation  went  towards  her  and  the  other  women, 
flinging  a  remark  to  John  Loveday  in  passing.  'Ah, 
Loveday  !  I  heard  you  were  come ;  in  short,  I  come  o' 
purpose  to  see  you.  Glad  to  see  you  enjoying  yourself 
at  home  again.' 

The  trumpet-major  replied  civilly,  though  not  without 
grimness,  for  he  seemed  hardly  to  like  Derriman's 
motion  towards  Anne. 

'  Widow  Garland's  daughter ! — yes,  'tis !  surely.    You 

33 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

remember  me  ?     I  have  been  here  before.     Festus  Der- 
riman,  Yeomanry  Cavalry.' 

Anne  gave  a  little  curtsey.  '  I  know  your  name  is 
Festus — that's  all.' 

'Yes,  'tis  well  known — especially  latterly.'  He 
dropped  his  voice  to  confidence  pitch.  '  I  suppose 
your  friends  here  are  disturbed  by  my  coming  in,  as 
they  don't  seem  to  talk  much  ?  I  don't  mean  to  inter- 
rupt the  party ;  but  I  often  find  that  people  are  put  out 
by  my  coming  among  'em,  especially  when  I've  got  my 
regimentals  on.' 

'  La  !  and  are  they  ? ' 

*  Yes ;  'tis  the  way  I  have.'  He  further  lowered  his 
tone,  as  if  they  had  been  old  friends,  though  in  reality 
he  had  only  seen  her  three  or  four  times.  '  And  how 
did  you  come  to  be  here  ?  Dash  my  wig,  I  don't  like  to 
see  a  nice  young  lady  like  you  in  this  company.  You 
should  come  to  some  of  our  yeomanry  sprees  in  Caster- 
bridge  or  Shottsford-Forum.  O,  but  the  girls  do  come ! 
The  yeomanry  are  respected  men,  men  of  good  substan- 
tial families,  many  farming  their  own  land;  and  every 
one  among  us  rides  his  own  charger,  which  is  more  than 
these  cussed  fellows  do.'  He  nodded  towards  the 
dragoons. 

'  Hush,  hush !  Why,  these  are  friends  and  neigh- 
bours of  Miller  Loveday,  and  he  is  a  great  friend  of  ours 
— our  best  friend,'  said  Anne  with  great  emphasis,  and 
reddening  at  the  sense  of  injustice  to  their  host.  '  What 
are  you  thinking  of,  talking  like  that  ?  It  is  ungenerous 
in  you.' 

'Ha,  ha!  I've  affronted  you.  Isn't  that  it,  fair 
angel,  fair — what  do  you  call  it? — fair  vestal?  Ah, 
well!  would  you  was  safe  in  my  own  house!  But 
honour  must  be  minded  now,  not  courting.  Rollicum- 
rorum,  tol-lol-lorum.  Pardon  me,  my  sweet,  I  like  ye ! 
It  may  be  a  come  down  for  me,  owning  land ;  but  I  do 
like  ye.' 

39 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

1  Sir,  please  be  quiet,'  said  Anne,  distressed. 

'  I  will,  I  will.  Well,  Corporal  Tullidge,  how's  your 
head  ? '  he  said,  going  towards  the  other  end  of  the 
room,  and  leaving  Anne  to  herself. 

The  company  had  again  recovered  its  liveliness,  and 
it  was  a  long  time  before  the  bouncing  Rufus  who  had 
joined  them  could  find  heart  to  tear  himself  away  from 
their  society  and  good  liquors,  although  he  had  had  quite 
enough  of  the  latter  before  he  entered.  The  natives 
received  him  at  his  own  valuation,  and  the  soldiers  of 
the  camp,  who  sat  beyond  the  table,  smiled  behind  their 
pipes  at  his  remarks,  with  a  pleasant  twinkle  of  the  eye 
which  approached  the  satirical,  John  Loveday  being  not 
the  least  conspicuous  in  this  bearing.  But  he  and  his 
friends  were  too  courteous  on  such  an  occasion  as  the 
present  to  challenge  the  young  man's  large  remarks,  and 
readily  permitted  him  to  set  them  right  on  the  details 
of  camping  and  other  military  routine,  about  which  the 
troopers  seemed  willing  to  let  persons  hold  any  opinion 
whatever,  provided  that  they  themselves  were  not  obliged 
to  give  attention  to  it ;  showing,  strangely  enough,  that 
if  there  was  one  subject  more  than  another  which  never 
interested  their  minds,  it  was  the  art  of  war.  To  them 
the  art  of  enjoying  good  company  in  Overcombe  Mill, 
the  details  of  the  miller's  household,  the  swarming  of  his 
bees,  the  number  of  his  chickens,  and  the  fatness  of  his 
pigs,  were  matters  of  infinitely  greater  concern. 

The  present  writer,  to  whom  this  party  has  been 
described  times  out  of  number  by  members  of  the 
Loveday  family  and  other  aged  people  now  passed  away, 
can  never  enter  the  old  living-room  of  Overcombe  Mill 
without  beholding  the  genial  scene  through  the  mists  of 
the  seventy  or  eighty  years  that  intervene  between  then 
and  now.  First  and  brightest  to  the  eye  are  the  dozen 
candles,  scattered  about  regardless  of  expense,  and  kept 
well  snuffed  by  the  miller,  who  walks  round  the  room 
at  intervals  of  five  minutes,  snuffers  in  hand,  and  nips 
40 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

each  wick  with  great  precision,  and  with  something  of 
an  executioner's  grim  look  upon  his  face  as  he  closes 
the  snuffers  upon  the  neck  of  the  candle.  Next  to  the 
candle-light  show  the  red  and  blue  coats  and  white 
breeches  of  the  soldiers — nearly  twenty  of  them  in  all 
besides  the  ponderous  Derriman — the  head  of  the  latter, 
and,  indeed,  the  heads  of  all  who  are  standing  up,  being 
in  dangerous  proximity  to  the  black  beams  of  the  ceiling. 
There  is  not  one  among  them  who  would  attach  any 
meaning  to  *  Vittoria,'  or  gather  from  the  syllables 
'  Waterloo  '  the  remotest  idea  of  their  own  glory  or  death. 
Next  appears  the  correct  and  innocent  Anne,  little 
thinking  what  things  Time  has  in  store  for  her  at  no 
great  distance  off.  She  looks  at  Derriman  with  a  half- 
uneasy  smile  as  he  clanks  hither  and  thither,  and  hopes 
he  will  not  single  her  out  again  to  hold  a  private 
dialogue  with — which,  however,  he  does,  irresistibly 
attracted  by  the  white  muslin  figure.  She  must,  of 
course,  look  a  little  gracious  again  now,  lest  his  mood 
should  turn  from  sentimental  to  quarrelsome — no  im. 
possible  contingency  with  the  yeoman-soldier,  as  her 
quick  perception  had  noted. 

'Well,  well;  this  idling  won't  do  for  me,  folks,'  he 
at  last  said,  to  Anne's  relief.  '  I  ought  not  to  have 
come  in,  by  rights  ;  but  I  heard  you  enjoying  yourselves, 
and  thought  it  might  be  worth  while  to  see  what  you 
were  up  to  ;  I  have  several  miles  to  go  before  bedtime ; ' 
and  stretching  his  arms,  lifting  his  chin,  and  shaking 
his  head,  to  eradicate  any  unseemly  curve  or  wrinkle 
from  his  person,  the  yeoman  wished  them  an  off-hand 
good-night,  and  departed. 

'  You  should  have  teased  him  a  little  more,  father,' 
said  the  trumpet-major  drily.  'You  could  soon  have 
made  him  as  crabbed  as  a  bear.' 

'  I  didn't  want  to  provoke  the  chap — 'twasn't  worth 
while.  He  came  in  friendly  enough,'  said  the  gentle 
miller  without  looking  up. 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

'  I  don't  think  he  was  overmuch  friendly,'  said  John. 

« Tis  as  well  to  be  neighbourly  with  folks,  if  they  be 
not  quite  onbearable,'  his  father  genially  replied,  as  he' 
took  off  his  coat  to  go  and  draw  more  ale — this  peri- 
odical stripping  to  the  shirt-sleeves  being  necessitated 
by  the  narrowness  of  the  cellar  and  the  smeary  effect  of 
its  numerous  cobwebs  upon  best  clothes. 

Some  of  the  guests  then  spoke  of  Fess  Derriman  as 
not  such  a  bad  young  man  if  you  took  him  right  and 
humoured  him;  others  said  that  he  was  nobody's 
enemy  but  his  own ;  and  the  elder  ladies  mentioned  in 
a  tone  of  interest  that  he  was  likely  to  come  into  a  deal 
of  money  at  his  uncle's  death.  The  person  who  did 
not  praise  was  the  one  who  knew  him  best,  who  had 
known  him  as  a  boy  years  ago,  when  he  had  lived 
nearer  to  Overcombe  than  he  did  at  present.  This 
unappreciative  person  was  the  trumpet-major. 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 


OLD  MR.  DERRIMAN  OF 
OXWELL  HALL 

VI 

AT  this  time  in  the  history  of  Overcombe  one  solitary 
newspaper  occasionally  found  its  way  into  the  village. 
It  was  lent  by  the  postmaster  at  Budmouth  (who,  in 
some  mysterious  way,  got  it  for  nothing  through  his 
connexion  with  the  mail)  to  Mr.  Derriman  at  the  Hall, 
by  whom  it  was  handed  on  to  Mrs.  Garland  when  it 
was  not  more  than  a  fortnight  old.  Whoever  re- 
members anything  about  the  old  farmer-squire  will,  of 
course,  know  well  enough  that  this  delightful  privilege 
of  reading  history  in  long  columns  was  not  accorded  to 
the  Widow  Garland  for  nothing.  It  was  by  such  in- 
genuous means  that  he  paid  her  for  her  daughter's 
occasional  services  in  reading  aloud  to  him  and  making 
out  his  accounts,  in  which  matters  the  farmer,  whose 
guineas  were  reported  to  touch  five  figures — some  said 
more — was  not  expert. 

Mrs.  Martha  Garland,  as  a  respectable  widow, 
occupied  a  twilight  rank  between  the  benighted  villagers 
and  the  well-informed  gentry,  and  kindly  made  herself 
useful  to  the  former  as  letter-writer  and  reader,  and 
general  translator  from  the  printing  tongue.  It  was  not 
without  satisfaction  that  she  stood  at  her  door  of  an 

43 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

evening,  newspaper  in  hand,  with  three  or  four  cottagers 
standing  round,  and  poured  down  their  open  throats 
any  paragraph  that  she  might  choose  to  select  from  the 
stirring  ones  of  the  period.  When  she  had  done  with 
the  sheet  Mrs.  Garland  passed  it  on  to  the  miller,  the 
miller  to  the  grinder,  and  the  grinder  to  the  grinder's 
boy,  in  whose  hands  it  became  subdivided  into  half 
pages,  quarter  pages,  and  irregular  triangles,  and  ended 
its  career  as  a  paper  cap,  a  flagon  bung,  or  a  wrapper 
for  his  bread  and  cheese. 

Notwithstanding  his  compact  with  Mrs.  Garland,  old 
Mr.  Derriman  kept  the  paper  so  long,  and  was  so  chary 
of  wasting  his  man's  time  on  a  merely  intellectual  errand, 
that  unless  she  sent  for  the  journal  it  seldom  reached 
her  hands.  Anne  was  always  her  messenger.  The 
arrival  of  the  soldiers  led  Mrs.  Garland  to  despatch  her 
daughter  for  it  the  day  after  the  party;  and  away  she 
went  in  her  hat  and  pelisse,  in  a  direction  at  right  angles 
to  that  of  the  encampment  on  the  hill. 

Walking  across  the  fields  for  the  distance  of  a  mile  or 
two,  she  came  out  upon  the  high-road  by  a  wicket-gate. 
On  the  other  side  of  the  way  was  the  entrance  to  what 
at  first  sight  looked  like  a  neglected  meadow,  the  gate 
being  a  rotten  one,  without  a  bottom  rail,  and  broken- 
down  palings  lying  on  each  side.  The  dry  hard  mud  of 
the  opening  was  marked  with  several  horse  and  cow 
tracks,  that  had  been  half  obliterated  by  fifty  score  sheep 
tracks,  surcharged  with  the  tracks  of  a  man  and  a  dog. 
Beyond  this  geological  record  appeared  a  carriage-road, 
nearly  grown  over  with  grass,  which  Anne  followed.  It 
descended  by  a  gentle  slope,  dived  under  dark-rinded 
elm  and  chestnut  trees,  and  conducted  her  on  till  the 
hiss  of  a  waterfall  and  the  sound  of  the  sea  became 
audible,  when  it  took  a  bend  round  a  swamp  of  fresh 
watercress  and  brooklime  that  had  once  been  a  fish- 
pond. Here  the  grey,  weather-worn  front  of  a  building 
edged  from  behind  the  trees.  It  was  Oxwell  Hall, 
44 


THE   TRUMPET-MAJOR 

once  the  seat  of  a  family  now  extinct,  and  of  late  years 
used  as  a  farmhouse. 

Benjamin  Derriman,  who  owned  the  crumbling  place, 
had  originally  been  only  the  occupier  and  tenant-farmer 
of  the  fields  around.  His  wife  had  brought  him  a  small 
fortune,  and  during  the  growth  of  their  only  son  there 
had  been  a  partition  of  the  Oxwell  estate,  giving  the 
farmer,  now  a  widower,  the  opportunity  of  acquiring  the 
building  and  a  small  portion  of  the  land  attached  on  ex- 
ceptionally low  terms.  But  two  years  after  the  purchase 
the  boy  died,  and  Derriman's  existence  was  paralyzed 
forthwith.  It  was  said  that  since  that  event  he  had 
devised  the  house  and  fields  to  a  distant  female  relative, 
to  keep  them  out  of  the  hands  of  his  detested  nephew ; 
but  this  was  not  certainly  known. 

The  hall  was  as  interesting  as  mansions  in  a  state  of 
declension  usually  are,  as  the  excellent  county  history 
showed.  That  popular  work  in  folio  contained  an  old 
plate  dedicated  to  the  last  scion  of  the  original  owners, 
from  which  drawing  it  appeared  that  in  1750,  the  date 
of  publication,  the  windows  were  covered  with  little 
scratches  like  black  flashes  of  lightning ;  that  a  horn  of 
hard  smoke  came  out  of  each  of  the  twelve  chimneys ; 
that  a  lady  and  a  lap-dog  stood  on  the  lawn  in  a  strenu- 
ously walking  position ;  and  a  substantial  cloud  and 
nine  flying  birds  of  no  known  species  hung  over  the 
trees  to  the  north-east. 

The  rambling  and  neglected  dwelling  had  all  the 
romantic  excellencies  and  practical  drawbacks  which  such 
mildewed  places  share  in  common  with  caves,  mountains, 
wildernesses,  glens,  and  other  homes  of  poesy  that  people 
of  taste  wish  to  live  and  die  in.  Mustard  and  cress 
could  have  been  raised  on  the  inner  plaster  of  the  dewy 
walls  at  any  height  not  exceeding  three  feet  from  the  floor; 
and  mushrooms  of  the  most  refined  and  thin-stemmed 
kinds  grew  up  through  the  chinks  of  the  larder  paving. 
As  for  the  outside,  Nature,  in  the  ample  time  that  had 

45 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

been  given  her,  had  so  mingled  her  filings  and  efface- 
ments  with  the  marks  of  human  wear  and  tear  upon  the 
house,  that  it  was  often  hard  to  say  in  which  of  the  two, 
or  if  in  both,  any  particular  obliteration  had  its  origin. 
The  keenness  was  gone  from  the  mouldings  of  the  door- 
ways, but  whether  worn  out  by  the  rubbing  past  of  in- 
numerable people's  shoulders,  and  the  moving  of  their 
heavy  furniture,  or  by  Time  in  a  grander  and  more 
abstract  form,  did  not  appear.  The  iron  stanchions 
inside  the  window-panes  were  eaten  away  to  the  size  of 
wires  at  the  bottom  where  they  entered  the  stone,  the 
condensed  breathings  of  generations  having  settled  there 
in  pools  and  rusted  them.  The  panes  themselves  had 
either  lost  their  shine  altogether  or  become  iridescent  as  a 
peacock's  tail.  In  the  middle  of  the  porch  was  a  vertical 
sun-dial,  whose  gnomon  swayed  loosely  about  when  the 
wind  blew,  and  cast  its  shadow  hither  and  thither,  as 
much  as  to  say,  '  Here's  your  fine  model  dial ;  here's 
any  time  for  any  man ;  I  am  an  old  dial ;  and  shiftiness 
is  the  best  policy.' 

Anne  passed  under  the  arched  gateway  which  screened 
the  main  front ;  over  it  was  the  porter's  lodge,  reached  by 
a  spiral  staircase.  Across  the  archway  was  fixed  a  row 
of  wooden  hurdles,  one  of  which  Anne  opened  and  closed 
behind  her.  Their  necessity  was  apparent  as  soon  as 
she  got  inside.  The  quadrangle  of  the  ancient  pile  was 
a  bed  of  mud  and  manure,  inhabited  by  calves,  geese, 
ducks,  and  sow  pigs  surprisingly  large,  with  young  ones 
surprisingly  small.  In  the  groined  porch  some  heifers 
were  amusing  themselves  by  stretching  up  their  necks 
and  licking  the  carved  stone  capitals  that  supported  the 
vaulting.  Anne  went  on  to  a  second  and  open  door, 
across  which  was  another  hurdle  to  keep  the  live  stock 
from  absolute  community  with  the  inmates.  There  being 
no  knocker,  she  knocked  by  means  of  a  short  stick  which 
was  laid  against  the  post  for  that  purpose ;  but  nobody  at- 
tending, she  entered  the  passage,  and  tried  an  inner  door. 

46 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

A  slight  noise  was  heard  inside,  the  door  opened 
about  an  inch,  and  a  strip  of  decayed  face,  including  the 
eye  and  some  forehead  wrinkles,  appeared  within  the 
crevice. 

'  Please  I  have  come  for  the  paper,'  said  Anne. 

'  O,  is  it  you,  dear  Anne  ? '  whined  the  inmate,  opening 
the  door  a  little  further.  « I  could  hardly  get  to  the 
door  to  open  it,  I  am  so  weak.' 

The  speaker  was  a  wizened  old  gentleman,  in  a  coat 
the  colour  of  his  farmyard,  breeches  of  the  same  hue, 
unbuttoned  at  the  knees,  revealing  a  bit  of  leg  above  his 
stocking  and  a  dazzlingly  white  shirt-frill  to  compensate 
for  this  untidiness  below.  The  edge  of  his  skull  round 
his  eye-sockets  was  visible  through  the  skin,  and  he 
had  a  mouth  whose  corners  made  towards  the  back 
of  his  head  on  the  slightest  provocation.  He  walked 
with  great  apparent  difficulty  back  into  the  room,  Anne 
following  him. 

4 Well,  you  can  have  the  paper  if  you  want  it;  but 
you  never  give  me  much  time  to  see  what's  in  en ! 
Here's  the  paper.'  He  held  it  out,  but  before  she  could 
take  it  he  drew  it  back  again,  saying,  <  I  have  not  had 
my  share  o'  the  paper  by  a  good  deal,  what  with  my 
weak  sight,  and  people  coming  so  soon  for  en.  I  am  a 
poor  put-upon  soul ;  but  my  "  Duty  of  Man  "  will  be  left 
to  me  when  the  newspaper  is  gone.'  And  he  sank  into 
his  chair  with  an  air  of  exhaustion. 

Anne  said  that  she  did  not  wish  to  take  the  paper  if 
he  had  not  done  with  it,  and  that  she  was  really  later 
in  the  week  than  usual,  owing  to  the  soldiers. 

'  Soldiers,  yes — rot  the  soldiers  !  And  now  hedges 
will  be  broke,  and  hens'  nests  robbed,  and  sucking-pigs 
stole,  and  I  don't  know  what  all.  Who's  to  pay  for't, 
sure  ?  I  reckon  that  because  the  soldiers  be  come  you 
don't  mean  to  be  kind  enough  to  read  to  me  what  I 
hadn't  time  to  read  myself.' 

She  would  read  if  he  wished,  she  said ;  she  was  in 

47 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

no  hurry.     And  sitting  herself  down  she  unfolded  the 
paper. 

'  "  Dinner  at  Carlton  House  "  ?  ' 

'  No,  faith.     Tis  nothing  to  I.' 

'  "  Defence  of  the  country  "  ? ' 

'  Ye  may  read  that  if  ye  will.  I  hope  there  will  be 
no  billeting  in  this  parish,  or  any  wild  work  of  that 
sort ;  for  what  would  a  poor  old  lamiger  like  myself  do 
with  soldiers  in  his  house,  and  nothing  to  feed  'em  with  ?  ' 

Anne  began  reading,  and  continued  at  her  task 
nearly  ten  minutes,  when  she  was  interrupted  by  the 
appearance  in  the  quadrangular  slough  without  of  a 
large  figure  in  the  uniform  of  the  yeomanry  cavalry. 

'  What  do  you  see  out  there  ?  '  said  the  farmer  with 
a  start,  as  she  paused  and  slowly  blushed. 

'  A  soldier — one  of  the  yeomanry,'  said  Anne,  not 
quite  at  her  ease. 

'  Scrounch  it  all — 'tis  my  nephew ! '  exclaimed  the 
old  man,  his  face  turning  to  a  phosphoric  pallor,  and 
his  body  twitching  with  innumerable  alarms  as  he 
formed  upon  his  face  a  gasping  smile  of  joy,  with 
which  to  welcome  the  new-coming  relative.  '  Read 
on,  prithee,  Miss  Garland.' 

Before  she  had  read  far  the  visitor  straddled  over 
the  door-hurdle  into  the  passage  and  entered  the  room. 

'  Well,  nunc,  how  do  you  feel  ? '  said  the  giant, 
shaking  hands  with  the  farmer  in  the  manner  of  one 
violently  ringing  a  hand-bell.  '  Glad  to  see  you.' 

{ Bad  and  weakish,  Festus,'  replied  the  other,  his 
person  responding  passively  to  the  rapid  vibrations 
imparted.  '  O,  be  tender,  please — a  little  softer,  there's 
a  dear  nephew !  My  arm  is  no  more  than  a  cobweb.' 

'  Ah,  poor  soul  ! ' 

'Yes,  I  am  not  much  more  than  a  skeleton,  and 
can't  bear  rough  usage.' 

*  Sorry  to  hear  that ;  but  I'll  bear  your  affliction  in 
mind.     Why,  you  are  all  in  a  tremble,  Uncle  Benjy  ! ' 
48 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

'  'Tis  because  I  am  so  gratified,'  said  the  old  man. 
'  I  always  get  all  in  a  tremble  when  I  am  taken  by 
surprise  by  a  beloved  relation.' 

« Ah,  that's  it ! '  said  the  yeoman,  bringing  his  hand 
down  on  the  back  of  his  uncle's  chair  with  a  loud 
smack,  at  which  Uncle  Benjy  nervously  sprang  three 
inches  from  his  seat  and  dropped  into  it  again.  '  Ask 
your  pardon  for  frightening  ye,  uncle.  'Tis  how  we 
do  in  the  army,  and  I  forgot  your  nerves.  You  have 
scarcely  expected  to  see  me,  I  dare  say,  but  here  I  am.' 

'  I  am  glad  to  see  ye.  You  are  not  going  to  stay 
long,  perhaps  ? ' 

'  Quite  the  contrary.  I  am  going  to  stay  ever  so 
long ! ' 

'  O  I  see !  I  am  so  glad,  dear  Festus.  Ever  so 
long,  did  ye  say  ?  ' 

'  Yes,  ever  so  long,'  said  the  young  gentleman,  sitting 
on  the  slope  of  the  bureau  and  stretching  out  his  legs 
as  props.  '  I  am  going  to  make  this  quite  my  own 
home  whenever  I  am  off  duty,  as  long  as  we  stay  out. 
And  after  that,  when  the  campaign  is  over  in  the 
autumn,  I  shall  come  here,  and  live  with  you  like  your 
own  son,  and  help  manage  your  land  and  your  farm, 
you  know,  and  make  you  a  comfortable  old  man.' 

*  Ah  !     How  you  do  please  me  ! '  said  the  farmer,  with 
a  horrified  smile,  and  grasping  the  arms  of  his  chair  to 
sustain  himself. 

'  Yes ;  I  have  been  meaning  to  come  a  long  time,  as 
I  knew  you'd  like  to  have  me,  Uncle  Benjy ;  and  'tisn't 
in  my  heart  to  refuse  you.' 

*  You  always  was  kind  that  way  ! ' 

'Yes;  I  always  was.  But  I  ought  to  tell  you  at 
once,  not  to  disappoint  you,  that  I  shan't  be  here  always 
— all  day,  that  is,  because  of  my  military  duties  as  a 
cavalry  man.' 

'  O,  not  always  ?  That's  a  pity ! '  exclaimed  the 
farmer,  with  a  cheerful  eye. 

49  D 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

'  I  knew  you'd  say  so.  And  I  shan't  be  able  to  sleep 
here  at  night  sometimes,  for  the  same  reason.' 

'  Not  sleep  here  o'  nights  ? '  said  the  old  gentleman, 
still  more  relieved.  'You  ought  to  sleep  here — you 
certainly  ought ;  in  short,  you  must.  But  you  can't ! ' 

'Not  while  we  are  with  the  colours.  But  directly 
that's  over — the  very  next  day — I'll  stay  here  all  day, 
and  all  night  too,  to  oblige  you,  since  you  ask  me  so 
very  kindly.' 

*  Th-thank  ye,  that  will  be  very  nice ! '  said  Uncle 
Benjy. 

1  Yes ;  I  knew  'twould  relieve  ye.'  And  he  kindly 
stroked  his  uncle's  head,  the  old  man  expressing  his 
enjoyment  at  the  affectionate  token  by  a  death's-head 
grimace.  *  I  should  have  called  to  see  you  the  other 
night  when  I  passed  through  here,'  Festus  continued ; 
'  but  it  was  so  late  that  I  couldn't  come  so  far  out  of 
my  way.  You  won't  think  it  unkind  ?  ' 

'  Not  at  all,  if  you  couldn't.  I  never  shall  think  it 
unkind  if  you  really  can't  come,  you  know,  Festy.' 
There  was  a  few  minutes'  pause,  and  as  the  nephew  said 
nothing  Uncle  Benjy  went  on :  '  I  wish  I  had  a  little 
present  for  ye.  But  as  ill-luck  would  have  it  we  have 
lost  a  deal  of  stock  this  year,  and  I  have  had  to  pay 
away  so  much.' 

1  Poor  old  man — I  know  you  have.  Shall  I  lend 
you  a  seven-shilling  piece,  Uncle  Benjy  ? ' 

<  Ha,  ha  ! — you  must  have  your  joke ;  well,  I'll  think 
o'  that.  And  so  they  expect  Buonaparty  to  choose  this 
very  part  of  the  coast  for  his  landing,  hey  ?  And  that 
the  yeomanry  be  to  stand  in  front  as  the  forlorn  hope  ? ' 

'  Who  says  so  ?  '  asked  the  florid  son  of  Mars,  losing 
a  little  redness. 

'  The  newspaper-man/ 

'O,  there's  nothing  in  that,'  said  Festus  bravely. 
'The  gover'ment  thought  it  possible  at  one  time;  but 
they  don't  know.' 

5° 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

Festus  turned  himself  as  he  talked,  and  now  said 
abruptly  :  *  Ah,  who's  this  ?  Why,  'tis  our  little  Anne !  ' 
He  had  not  noticed  her  till  this  moment,  the  young 
woman  having  at  his  entry  kept  her  face  over  the  news- 
paper, and  then  got  away  to  the  back  part  of  the  room. 
'  And  are  you  and  your  mother  always  going  to  stay 
down  there  in  the  mill-house  watching  the  little  fishes, 
Miss  Anne  ? ' 

She  said  that  it  was  uncertain,  in  a  tone  of  truthful 
precision  which  the  question  was  hardly  worth,  looking 
forcedly  at  him  as  she  spoke.  But  she  blushed  fitfully, 
in  her  arms  and  hands  as  much  as  in  her  face.  Not 
that  she  was  overpowered  by  the  great  boots,  formidable 
spurs,  and  other  fierce  appliances  of  his  person,  as  he 
imagined;  simply  she  had  not  been  prepared  to  meet 
him  there. 

'  I  hope  you  will,  I  am  sure,  for  my  own  good/  said 
he,  letting  his  eyes  linger  on  the  round  of  her  cheek. 

Anne  became  a  little  more  dignified,  and  her  look 
showed  reserve.  But  the  yeoman  on  perceiving  this 
went  on  talking  to  her  in  so  civil  a  way  that  he  irresistibly 
amused  her,  though  she  tried  to  conceal  all  feeling.  At 
a  brighter  remark  of  his  than  usual  her  mouth  moved, 
her  upper  lip 'playing  uncertainly  over  her  white  teeth; 
it  would  stay  still — no,  it  would  withdraw  a  little  way 
in  a  smile;  then  it  would  flutter  down  again;  and  so 
it  wavered  like  a  butterfly  in  a  tender  desire  to  be  pleased 
and  smiling,  and  yet  to  be  also  sedate  and  composed; 
to  show  him  that  she  did  not  want  compliments,  and 
yet  that  she  was  not  so  cold  as  to  wish  to  repress  any 
genuine  feeling  he  might  be  anxious  to  utter. 

'  Shall  you  want  any  more  reading,  Mr.  Derriman  ?  ' 
said  she,  interrupting  the  younger  man  in  his  remarks. 
'  If  not,  I'll  go  homeward.' 

*  Don't  let  me  hinder  you  longer,'  said  Festus.  '  I 
am  off  in  a  minute  or  two,  when  your  man  has  cleaned 
my  boots.' 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

'Ye  don't  hinder  us,  nephew.  She  must  have  the 
paper :  'tis  the  day  for  her  to  have  'n.  She  might  read 
a  little  more,  as  I  have  had  so  little  profit  out  o'  en 
hitherto.  Well,  why  don't  ye  speak  ?  Will  ye,  or  won't 
ye,  my  dear  ? ' 

'  Not  to  two,'  she  said. 

*  Ho,  ho !  damn  it,  I  must  go  then,  I  suppose,'  said 
Festus,  laughing;  and   unable  to  get  a  further  glance 
from  her  he  left  the  room  and  clanked  into  the  back 
yard,  where  he  saw  a  man ;  holding  up  his  hand  he  cried, 
'  Anthony  Cripplestraw  ! ' 

Cripplestraw  came  up  in  a  trot,  moved  a  lock  of 
his  hair  and  replaced  it,  and  said,  '  Yes,  Maister  Derri- 
man.'  He  was  old  Mr.  Derriman's  odd  hand  in  the 
yard  and  garden,  and  like  his  employer  had  no  great 
pretensions  to  manly  beauty,  owing  to  a  limpness  of 
backbone  and  speciality  of  mouth,  which  opened  on  one 
side  only,  giving  him  a  triangular  smile. 

'  Well,  Cripplestraw,  how  is  it  to-day  ? '  said  Festus, 
with  socially-superior  heartiness. 

'  Middlin',  considering,  Maister  Derriman.  And 
how's  yerself  ? ' 

1  Fairish.  Well,  now,  see  and  clean  these  military 
boots  of  mine.  I'll  cock  my  foot  up  on  this  bench. 
This  pigsty  of  my  uncle's  is  not  fit  for  a  soldier  to  come 
into.' 

'Yes,  Maister  Derriman,  I  will.  No,  'tis  not  fit, 
Maister  Derriman.' 

'  What  stock  has  uncle  lost  this  year,  Cripplestraw  ? ' 

'  Well,  let's  see,  sir.  I  can  call  to  mind  that  we've 
lost  three  chickens,  a  torn-pigeon,  and  a  weakly  sucking- 
pig,  one  of  a  fare  of  ten.  I  can't  think  of  no  more, 
Maister  Derriman.' 

*  H'm,  not  a  large  quantity  of  cattle.    The  old  rascal ! ' 
1  No,  'tis  not  a  large  quantity.     Old  what  did  you 

say,  sir  ? ' 

1  O  nothing.     He's  within  there.'     Festus  flung  his 
52 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

forehead  in  the  direction  of  a  right  line  towards  the 
inner  apartment.     '  He's  a  regular  sniche  one.' 

*  Hee,  hee ;  fie,  fie,  Master  Derriman  ! '  said  Cripple- 
straw,  shaking  his  head  in  delighted  censure.  '  Gentle- 
folks shouldn't  talk  so.  And  an  officer,  Mr.  Derriman ! 
Tis  the  duty  of  all  cavalry  gentlemen  to  bear  in  mind 
that  their  blood  is  a  knowed  thing  in  the  country,  and 
not  to  speak  ill  o't.' 

1  He's  close-fisted.' 

'  Well,  maister,  he  is — I  own  he  is  a  little.  'Tis  the 
nater  of  some  old  venerable  gentlemen  to  be  so.  We'll 
hope  he'll  treat  ye  well  in  yer  fortune,  sir.' 

1  Hope  he  will.  Do  people  talk  about  me  here, 
Cripplestraw  ? '  asked  the  yeoman,  as  the  other  con- 
tinued busy  with  his  boots. 

'  Well,  yes,  sir ;  they  do  off  and  on,  you  know.  They 
says  you  be  as  fine  a  piece  of  calvery  flesh  and  bones  as 
was  ever  growed  on  fallow-ground;  in  short,  all  owns 
that  you  be  a  fine  fellow,  sir.  I  wish  I  wasn't  no  more 
afraid  of  the  French  than  you  be;  but  being  in  the 
Locals,  Maister  Derriman,  I  assure  ye  I  dream  of  having 
to  defend  my  country  every  night ;  and  I  don't  like  the 
dream  at  all.' 

'  You  should  take  it  careless,  Cripplestraw,  as  I  do ; 
and  'twould  soon  come  natural  to  you  not  to  mind  it  at 
all.  Well,  a  fine  fellow  is  not  everything,  you  know.  O 
no.  There's  as  good  as  I  in  the  army,  and  even  better.' 

'  And  they  say  that  when  you  fall  this  summer,  you'll 
die  like  a  man.' 

'When  I  fall?' 

'Yes,  sure,  Maister  Derriman.  Poor  soul  o'  thee! 
I  shan't  forget  'ee  as  you  lie  mouldering  in  yer  soldier's 
grave.' 

'Hey?'  said  the  warrior  uneasily.  'What  makes 
'em  think  I  am  going  to  fall  ? ' 

'  Well,  sir,  by  all  accounts  the  yeomanry  will  be  put  in 
front.' 

53 


THE  TRUMPET- MAJOR 

'  Front !     That's  what  my  uncle  has  been  saying.' 

cYes,  and  by  all  accounts  'tis  true.  And  naterelly 
they'll  be  mowed  down  like  grass ;  and  you  among  'em, 
poor  young  galliant  officer  ! ' 

'Look  here,  Cripplestraw.  This  is  a  reg'lar  foolish 
report.  How  can  yeomanry  be  put  in  front  ?  Nobody's 
put  in  front.  We  yeomanry  have  nothing  to  do  with 
Buonaparte's  landing.  We  shall  be  away  in  a  safe  place, 
guarding  the  possessions  and  jewels.  Now,  can  you 
see,  Cripplestraw,  any  way  at  all  that  the  yeomanry  can 
be  put  in  front  ?  Do  you  think  they  really  can  ? ' 

<  Well,  maister,  I  am  afraid  I  do,'  said  the  cheering 
Cripplestraw.  '  And  I  know  a  great  warrior  like  you  is 
only  too  glad  o'  the  chance.  'Twill  be  a  great  thing  for 
ye,  death  and  glory  !  In  short,  I  hope  from  my  heart 
you  will  be,  and  I  say  so  very  often  to  volk — in  fact,  I 
pray  at  night  for't.' 

*  O  !  cuss  you  !  you  needn't  pray  about  it.' 
1  No,  Maister  Derriman,  I  won't.' 

'Of  course  my  sword  will  do  its  duty.  That's 
enough.  And  now  be  off  with  ye.' 

Festus  gloomily  returned  to  his  uncle's  room  and 
found  that  Anne  was  just  leaving.  He  was  inclined  to 
follow  her  at  once,  but  as  she  gave  him  no  opportunity 
for  doing  this  he  went  to  the  window,  and  remained 
tapping  his  fingers  against  the  shutter  while  she  crossed 
the  yard. 

*  Well,  nephy,  you  are  not  gone  yet  ? '  said  the  farmer, 
looking    dubiously  at    Festus   from    under   one  eyelid. 
'You  see  how  I  am.     Not  by  any  means  better,  you 
see ;  so  I  can't  entertain  'ee  as  well  as  I  would.' 

*  You  can't,  nunc,  you  can't.     I  don't  think  you  are 
worse— if  I  do,  dash  my  wig.     But  you'll  have  plenty  of 
opportunities  to  make  me  welcome  when  you  are  better. 
If  you  are  not  so  brisk  inwardly  as  you  was,  why  not  try 
change  of  air  ?     This  is  a  dull,  damp  hole.' 

'  'Tis,  Festus ;  and  I  am  thinking  of  moving.' 
54 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

'  Ah,  where  to  ? '  said  Festus,  with  surprise  and 
interest. 

'  Up  into  the  garret  in  the  north  corner.  There  is 
no  fireplace  in  the  room ;  but  I  shan't  want  that,  poor 
soul  o'  me.' 

*  'Tis  not  moving  far.' 

1  'Tis  not.  But  I  have  not  a  soul  belonging  to  me 
within  ten  mile ;  and  you  know  very  well  that  I  couldn't 
afford  to  go  to  lodgings  that  I  had  to  pay  for.' 

'  I  know  it — I  know  it,  Uncle  Benjy !  Well,  don't 
be  disturbed.  I'll  come  and  manage  for  you  as  soon 
as  ever  this  Boney  alarm  is  over  ;  but  when  a  man's 
country  calls  he  must  obey,  if  he  is  a  man.' 

'  A  splendid  spirit !  '  said  Uncle  Benjy,  with  much 
admiration  on  the  surface  of  his  countenance.  *  I 
never  had  it.  How  could  it  have  got  into  the  boy  ?  ' 

'  From  my  mother's  side,  perhaps.' 

*  Perhaps  so.     Well,  take  care  of  yourself,  nephy,' 
said  the  farmer,  waving  his  hand  impressively.     '  Take 
care  !     In  these  warlike  times  your  spirit  may  carry  ye 
into  the  arms  of  the  enemy ;  and  you  are  the  last  of 
the  family.     You  should  think  of  this,  and  not  let  your 
bravery  carry  ye  away.' 

'  Don't  be  disturbed,  uncle ;  I'll  control  myself,'  said 
Festus,  betrayed  into  self-complacency  against  his  will. 
'  At  least  I'll  do  what  I  can,  but  nature  will  out  some- 
times. Well,  I'm  off.'  He  began  humming  '  Brighton 
Camp,'  and,  promising  to  come  again  soon,  retired  with 
assurance,  each  yard  of  his  retreat  adding  private  joyous- 
ness  to  his  uncle's  form. 

When  the  bulky  young  man  had  disappeared  through 
the  porter's  lodge,  Uncle  Benjy  showed  preternatural 
activity  for  one  in  his  invalid  state,  jumping  up  quickly 
without  his  stick,  at  the  same  time  opening  and  shutting 
his  mouth  quite  silently  like  a  thirsty  frog,  which  was 
his  way  of  expressing  mirth.  He  ran  upstairs  as  quick 
as  an  old  squirrel,  and  went  to  a  dormer  window  which 
55 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

commanded  a  view  of  the  grounds  beyond  the  gate, 
and  the  footpath  that  stretched  across  them  to  the 
village. 

*  Yes,  yes  ! '  he  said  in  a  suppressed  scream,  dancing 
up  and  down,  '  he's  after  her  :  she've  hit  en ! '  For 
there  appeared  upon  the  path  the  figure  of  Anne  Gar- 
land, and,  hastening  on  at  some  little  distance  behind 
her,  the  swaggering  shape  of  Festus.  She  became  con- 
scious of  his  approach,  and  moved  more  quickly.  He 
moved  more  quickly  still,  and  overtook  her.  She  turned 
as  if  in  answer  to  a  call  from  him,  and  he  walked  on 
beside  her,  till  they  were  out  of  sight.  The  old  man 
then  played  upon  an  imaginary  fiddle  for  about  half  a 
minute;  and,  suddenly  discontinuing  these  signs  of 
pleasure,  went  downstairs  again. 


THE   TRUMPET-MAJOR 


HO W  THEY  TALKED 

IN  THE  PASTURES 

VII 

YOU  often   come  this   way?'    said  Festus   to  Anne, 
rather  before  he  had  overtaken  her. 

'I  come  for  the  newspaper  and  other  things,'  she 
said,  perplexed  by  a  doubt  whether  he  were  there  by 
accident  or  design. 

They  moved  on  in  silence,  Festus  beating  the  grass 
with  his  switch  in  a  masterful  way.  '  Did  you  speak, 
Mis'ess  Anne?'  he  asked. 

'  No,'  said  Anne. 

'  Ten  thousand  pardons.  I  thought  you  did.  Now 
don't  let  me  drive  you  out  of  the  path.  I  can  walk 
among  the  high  grass  and  giltycups — they  will  not  yellow 
my  stockings  as  they  will  yours.  Well,  what  do  you 
think  of  a  lot  of  soldiers  coming  to  the  neighbourhood 
in  this  way  ? ' 

'  I  think  it  is  very  lively,  and  a  great  change,'  she 
said  with  demure  seriousness. 

'  Perhaps  you  don't  like  us  warriors  as  a  body  ? ' 

Anne  smiled  without  replying. 

'  Why,  you  are  laughing ! '  said  the  yeoman,  looking 
searchingly  at  her  and  blushing  like  a  little  fire.  '  What 
do  you  see  to  laugh  at  ? ' 

57 


THE   TRUMPET-MAJOR 

'  Did  I  laugh  ? '  said  Anne,  a  little  scared  at  his 
sudden  mortification. 

*  Why,  yes ;  you  know  you  did,  you  young  sneerer,' 
he  said  like  a  cross  baby.     {  You  are  laughing  at  me — 
that's  who  you  are  laughing  at !     I  should  like  to  know 
what  you  would  do  without  such  as  me  if  the  French 
were  to  drop  in  upon  ye  any  night  ? ' 

*  Would  you  help  to  beat  them  off  ? '  said  she. 

1  Can  you  ask  such  a  question  ?  What  are  we  for  ? 
But  you  don't  think  anything  of  soldiers.' 

0  yes,  she  liked  soldiers,  she  said,  especially  when 
they  came  home   from   the  wars,   covered  with  glory; 
though  when  she  thought  what  doings  had  won  them 
that  glory  she  did  not  like  them  quite  so  well.     The 
gallant  and  appeased  yeoman  said  he  supposed  her  to 
mean  chopping  off  heads,  blowing  out  brains,  and  that 
kind   of   business,   and   thought   it    quite   right  that  a 
tender-hearted  thing  like  her  should  feel  a  little  horrified. 
But  as    for  him,   he   should   not    mind    such  another 
Blenheim  this  summer  as  the  army  had  fought  a  hundred 
years  ago,  or  whenever  it  was — dash  his  wig  if  he  should 
mind  it  at  all.     '  Hullo  !  now  you  are  laughing  again ; 
yes,  I  saw  you ! '     And  the  choleric  Festus  turned  his 
blue  eyes  and  flushed  face  upon  her  as  though  he  would 
read  her  through.     Anne  strove  valiantly  to  look  calmly 
back;  but  her  eyes  could  not  face  his,  and  they  fell. 
'  You  did  laugh ! '  he  repeated. 

1  It  was  only  a  tiny  little  one,'  she  murmured. 

'  Ah — I  knew  you  did  ! '  thundered  he.  '  Now  what 
was  it  you  laughed  at  ? ' 

'  I  only — thought  that  you  were — merely  in  the 
yeomanry,7  she  murmured  slily. 

'  And  what  of  that  ? ' 

'  And  the  yeomanry  only  seem  farmers  that  have 
lost  their  senses.' 

'  Yes,  yes !  I  knew  you  meant  some  jeering  o'  that 
sort,  Mistress  Anne.  But  I  suppose  'tis  the  way  of 

58 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

women,  and  I  take  no  notice.  I'll  confess  that  some 
of  us  are  no  great  things  :  but  I  know  how  to  draw  a 
sword,  don't  I  ? — say  I  don't  just  to  provoke  me.' 

1 1  am  sure  you  do,'  said  Anne  sweetly.  '  If  a 
Frenchman  came  up  to  you,  Mr.  Derriman,  would  you 
take  him  on  the  hip,  or  on  the  thigh  ? ' 

'  Now  you  are  flattering ! '  he  said,  his  white  teeth 
uncovering  themselves  in  a  smile.  ;  Well,  of  course  I 
should  draw  my  sword — no,  I  mean  my  sword  would 
be  already  drawn ;  and  I  should  put  spurs  to  my  horse 
— charger,  as  we  call  it  in  the  army ;  and  I  should  ride 
up  to  him  and  say — no,  I  shouldn't  say  anything,  of 
course — men  never  waste  words  in  battle ;  I  should 
take  him  with  the  third  guard,  low  point,  and  then 
coming  back  to  the  second  guard ' 

'But  that  would  be  taking  care  of  yourself — not 
hitting  at  him.' 

'  How  can  you  say  that ! '  he  cried,  the  beams  upon 
his  face  turning  to  a  lurid  cloud  in  a  moment.  '  How 
can  you  understand  military  terms  who've  never  had  a 
sword  in  your  life?  I  shouldn't  take  him  with  the 
sword  at  all.'  He  went  on  with  eager  sulkiness,  '  I 
should  take  him  with  my  pistol.  I  should  pull  off  my 
right  glove,  and  throw  back  my  goat-skin  ;  then  I  should 
open  my  priming-pan,  prime,  and  cast  about — no,  I 
shouldn't,  that's  wrong ;  I  should  draw  my  right  pistol, 
and  as  soon  as  loaded,  seize  the  weapon  by  the  butt ; 
then  at  the  word  "  Cock  your  pistol "  I  should ' 

*  Then  there  is  plenty  of  time  to  give  such  words  of 
command  in  the  heat  of  battle  ? '  said  Anne  innocently. 

'  No ! '  said  the  yeoman,  his  face  again  in  flames. 
*  Why,  of  course  I  am  only  telling  you  what  would  be 
the  word  of  command  if- — there  now !  you  la ' 

'  I  didn't ;  'pon  my  word  I  didn't ! ' 

'No,  I  don't  think  you  did;  it  was  my  mistake. 
Well,  then  I  come  smartly  to  Present,  looking  well  along 
the  barrel — along  the  barrel — and  fire.  Of  course  I 

59 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

know  well  enough  how  to  engage  the  enemy !     But  I 
expect  my  old  uncle  has  been  setting  you  against  me.' 

'  He  has  not  said  a  word,'  replied  Anne ;  '  though  I 
have  heard  of  you,  of  course.' 

1  What  have  you  heard  ?  Nothing  good,  I  dare  say. 
It  makes  my  blood  boil  within  me ! ' 

'  O,  nothing  bad,'  said  she  assuringly.  '  Just  a  word 
now  and  then.' 

'  Now,  come,  tell  me,  there's  a  dear.  I  don't  like  to 
be  crossed.  It  shall  be  a  sacred  secret  between  us. 
Come,  now ! ' 

Anne  was  embarrassed,  and  her  smile  was  uncom- 
fortable. « I  shall  not  tell  you/  she  said  at  last. 

'  There  it  is  again  ! '  said  the  yeoman,  throwing  him- 
self into  a  despair.  '  I  shall  soon  begin  to  believe  that 
my  name  is  not  worth  sixpence  about  here ! ' 

«I  tell  you  'twas  nothing  against  you,'  repeated 
Anne. 

'  That  means  it  might  have  been  for  me,'  said  Festus, 
in  a  mollified  tone.  '  Well,  though,  to  speak  the  truth, 
I  have  a  good  many  faults,  some  people  will  praise  me, 
I  suppose.  'Twas  praise  ? ' 

'  It  was.' 

'Well,  I  am  not  much  at  farming,  and  I  am  not 
much  in  company,  and  I  am  not  much  at  figures,  but 
perhaps  I  must  own,  since  it  is  forced  upon  me,  that  I 
can  show  as  fine  a  soldier's  figure  on  the  Esplanade  as 
any  man  of  the  cavalry.' 

'  You  can,'  said  Anne ;  for  though  her  flesh  crept  in 
mortal  terror  of  his  irascibility,  she  could  not  resist  the 
fearful  pleasure  of  leading  him  on.  'You  look  very 
well ;  and  some  say,  you  are ' 

*  What  ?  Well,  they  say  I  am  good-looking.  I  don't 
make  myself,  so  'tis  no  praise.  Hullo !  what  are  you 
looking  across  there  for  ? ' 

1  Only  at  a  bird  that  I  saw  fly  out  of  that  tree,'  said 
Anne. 

60 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

• '  What  ?  Only  at  a  bird,  do  you  say  ? '  he  heaved 
out  in  a  voice  of  thunder.  *  I  see  your  shoulders  a- 
shaking,  young  madam.  Now  don't  you  provoke  me 
with  that  laughing !  By  God,  it  won't  do  ! ' 

'  Then  go  away ! '  said  Anne,  changed  from  mirthful- 
ness  to  irritation  by  his  rough  manner.  '  I  don't  want 
your  company,  you  great  bragging  thing !  You  are  so 
touchy  there's  no  bearing  with  you.  Go  away ! ' 

'  No,  no,  Anne ;  I  am  wrong  to  speak  to  you  so.  I 
give  you  free  liberty  to  say  what  you  will  to  me.  Say  I 
am  not  a  bit  of  a  soldier,  or  anything !  Abuse  me — 
do  now,  there's  a  dear.  I'm  scum,  I'm  froth,  I'm  dirt 
before  the  besom — yes  ! ' 

'  I  have  nothing  to  say,  sir.  Stay  where  you  are  till 
I  am  out  of  this  field.' 

'Well,  there's  such  command  in  your  looks  that  I 
ha'n't  heart  to  go  against  you.  You  will  come  this  way 
to-morrow  at  the  same  time  ?  Now,  don't  be  uncivil.' 

She  was  too  generous  not  to  forgive  him,  but  the 
short  little  lip  murmured  that  she  did  not  think  it  at 
all  likely  she  should  come  that  way  to-morrow. 

1  Then  Sunday  ?  '  he  said. 

'  Not  Sunday,'  said  she. 

1  Then  Monday — Tuesday — Wednesday,  surely  ? '  he 
went  on  experimentally. 

She  answered  that  she  should  probably  not  see  him 
on  either  day,  and,  cutting  short  the  argument,  went 
through  the  wicket  into  the  other  field.  Festus  paused, 
looking  after  her ;  and  when  he  could  no  longer  see 
her  slight  figure  he  swept  away  his  deliberations,  began 
singing,  and  turned  off  in  the  other  direction. 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 


ANNE  MAKES  A 
CIRCUIT  OF  THE  CAMP 

VIII 

vvHEN  Anne  was  crossing  the  last  field,  she  saw 
approaching  her  an  old  woman  with  wrinkled  cheeks, 
who  surveyed  the  earth  and  its  inhabitants  through  the 
medium  of  brass-rimmed  spectacles.  Shaking  her  head 
at  Anne  till  the  glasses  shone  like  two  moons,  she  said, 
*  Ah,  ah ;  I  zeed  ye  !  If  I  had  only  kept  on  my  short 
ones  that  I  use  for  reading  the  Collect  and  Gospel  I 
shouldn't  have  zeed  ye ;  but  thinks  I,  I  be  going  out  o' 
doors,  and  I'll  put  on  my  long  ones,  little  thinking  what 
they'd  show  me.  Ay,  I  can  tell  folk  at  any  distance 
with  these — 'tis  a  beautiful  pair  for  out  o'  doors ;  though 
my  short  ones  be  best  for  close  work,  such  as  darning, 
and  catching  fleas,  that's  true.' 

*  What  have  you  seen,  Granny  Seamore  ?  '  said  Anne. 

'  Fie,  fie,  Miss  Nancy !  you  know,'  said  Granny  Sea- 
more,  shaking  her  head  still.  '  But  he's  a  fine  young 
feller,  and  will  have  all  his  uncle's  money  when  'a's 
gone.'  Anne  said  nothing  to  this,  and  looking  ahead 
with  a  smile  passed  Granny  Seamore  by. 

Festus,  the  subject  of  the  remark,  was  at  this  time 
about  three-and-twenty,  a  fine  fellow  as  to  feet  and 
inches,  and  of  a  remarkably  warm  tone  in  skin  and 

62 


THE   TRUMPET-MAJOR 

hair.  Symptoms  of  beard  and  whiskers  had  appeared 
upon  him  at  a  very  early  age,  owing  to  his  persistent 
use  of  the  razor  before  there  was  any  necessity  for  its 
operation.  The  brave  boy  had  scraped  unseen  in  the 
out-house,  in  the  cellar,  in  the  wood-shed,  in  the  stable, 
in  the  unused  parlour,  in  the  cow-stalls,  in  the  barn, 
and  wherever  he  could  set  up  his  triangular  bit  of 
looking-glass  without  observation,  or  extemporize  a 
mirror  by  sticking  up  his  hat  on  the  outside  of  a  window- 
pane.  The  result  now  was  that,  did  he  neglect  to  use 
the  instrument  he  once  had  trifled  with,  a  fine  rust 
broke  out  upon  his  countenance  on  the  first  day,  a 
golden  lichen  on  the  second,  and  a  fiery  stubble  on 
the  third  to  a  degree  which  admitted  of  no  further  post- 
ponement. 

His  disposition  divided  naturally  into  two,  the  boast- 
ful and  the  cantankerous.  When  Festus  put  on  the 
big  pot,  as  it  is  classically  called,  he  was  quite  blinded 
ipso  facto  to  the  diverting  effect  of  that  mood  and 
manner  upon  others  ;  but  when  disposed  to  be  envious 
or  quarrelsome  he  was  rather  shrewd  than  otherwise, 
and  could  do  some  pretty  strokes  of  satire.  He  was 
both  liked  and  abused  by  the  girls  who  knew  him,  and 
though  they  were  pleased  by  his  attentions,  they  never 
failed  to  ridicule  him  behind  his  back.  In  his  cups 
(he  knew  those  vessels,  though  only  twenty-three)  he 
first  became  noisy,  then  excessively  friendly,  and  then 
invariably  nagging.  During  childhood  he  had  made 
himself  renowned  for  his  pleasant  habit  of  pouncing 
down  upon  boys  smaller  and  poorer  than  himself,  and 
knocking  their  birds'  nests  out  of  their  hands,  or  over- 
turning their  little  carts  of  apples,  or  pouring  water 
down  their  backs ;  but  his  conduct  became  singularly 
the  reverse  of  aggressive  the  moment  the  little  boys' 
mothers  ran  out  to  him,  brandishing  brooms,  frying- 
pans,  skimmers,  and  whatever  else  they  could  lay  hands 
on  by  way  of  weapons.  He  then  fled  and  hid  behind 

63 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

bushes,  under  faggots,  or  in  pits  till  they  had  gone  away ; 
and  on  one  such  occasion  was  known  to  creep  into  a 
badger's  hole  quite  out  of  sight,  maintaining  that  post 
with  great  firmness  and  resolution  for  two  or  three  hours. 
He  had  brought  more  vulgar  exclamations  upon  the 
tongues  of  respectable  parents  in  his  native  parish  than 
any  other  boy  of  his  time.  When  other  youngsters 
snowballed  him  he  ran  into  a  place  of  shelter,  where 
he  kneaded  snowballs  of  his  own,  with  a  stone  inside, 
and  used  these  formidable  missiles  in  returning  their 
pleasantry.  Sometimes  he  got  fearfully  beaten  by  boys 
his  own  age,  when  he  would  roar  most  lustily,  but  fight 
on  in  the  midst  of  his  tears,  blood,  and  cries. 

He  was  early  in  love,  and  had  at  the  time  of  the 
story  suffered  from  the  ravages  of  that  passion  thirteen 
distinct  times.  He  could  not  love  lightly  and  gaily; 
his  love  was  earnest,  cross-tempered,  and  even  savage. 
It  was  a  positive  agony  to  him  to  be  ridiculed  by  the 
object  of  his  affections,  and  such  conduct  drove  him 
into  a  frenzy  if  persisted  in.  He  was  a  torment  to  those 
who  behaved  humbly  towards  him,  cynical  with  those 
who  denied  his  superiority,  and  a  very  nice  fellow  towards 
those  who  had  the  courage  to  ill-use  him. 

This  stalwart  gentleman  and  Anne  Garland  did  not 
cross  each  other's  paths  again  for  a  week.  Then  her 
mother  began  as  before  about  the  newspaper,  and, 
though  Anne  did  not  much  like  the  errand,  she  agreed 
to  go  for  it  on  Mrs.  Garland  pressing  her  with  unusual 
anxiety.  Why  her  mother  was  so  persistent  on  so  small 
a  matter  quite  puzzled  the  girl ;  but  she  put  on  her  hat 
and  started. 

As  she  had  expected,  Festus  appeared  at  a  stile  over 
which  she  sometimes  went  for  shortness'  sake,  and 
showed  by  his  manner  that  he  awaited  her.  When  she 
saw  this  she  kept  straight  on,  as  if  she  would  not  enter 
the  park  at  all. 

'  Surely  this  is  your  way  ? '  said  Festus. 


THE   TRUMPET-MAJOR 

'I  was  thinking  of  going  round  by  the  road/  she 
said. 

« Why  is  that  ?  ' 

She  paused,  as  if  she  were  not  inclined  to  say.  '  I 
go  that,  way  when  the  grass  is  wet,'  she  returned  at 
last. 

'  It  is  not  wet  now,'  he  persisted ;  '  the  sun  has  been 
shining  on  it  these  nine  hours.'  The  fact  was  that  the 
way  by  the  path  was  less  open  than  by  the  road,  and 
Festus  wished  to  walk  with  her  uninterrupted.  '  But, 
of  course,  it  is  nothing  to  me  what  you  do.'  He  flung 
himself  from  the  stile  and  walked  away  towards  the 
house. 

Anne,  supposing  him  really  indifferent,  took  the  same 
way,  upon  which  he  turned  his  head  and  waited  for  her 
with  a  proud  smile. 

'  I  cannot  go  with  you,'  she  said  decisively. 

1  Nonsense,  you  foolish  girl !  I  must  walk  along  with 
you  down  to  the  corner.' 

'  No,  please,  Mr.  Derriman ;  we  might  be  seen.' 

'  Now,  now — that's  shyness  ! '  he  said  jocosely. 

'  No ;  you  know  I  cannot  let  you.' 

'  But  I  must.' 

'  But  I  do  not  allow  it.' 

1  Allow  it  or  not,  I  will.' 

1  Then  you  are  unkind,  and  I  must  submit,'  she  said, 
her  eyes  brimming  with  tears. 

1  Ho,  ho ;  what  a  shame  of  me !  My  wig,  I  won't 
do  any  such  thing  for  the  world,'  said  the  repentant 
yeoman.  *  Haw,  haw  ;  why,  I  thought  your  "  go  away  " 
meant  "  come  on,"  as  it  does  with  so  many  of  the  women 
I  meet,  especially  in  these  clothes.  Who  was  to  know 
you  were  so  confoundedly  serious  ?  ' 

As  he  did  not  go  Anne  stood  still  and  said  nothing. 

'  I  see  you  have  a  deal  more  caution  and  a  deal  less 
good-nature  than  I  ever  thought  you  had,'  he  continued 
emphatically. 

65  E 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

*  No,  sir ;  it  is  not  any  planned  manner  of  mine  at 
all,'  she  said  earnestly,  '  But  you  will  see,  I  am  sure, 
that  I  could  not  go  down  to  the  hall  with  you  without 
putting  myself  in  a  wrong  light.' 

<  Yes ;  that's  it,  that's  it.  I  am  only  a  fellow  in  the 
yeomanry  cavalry — a  plain  soldier,  I  may  say ;  and  we 
know  what  women  think  of  such :  that  they  are  a  bad 
lot — men  you  mustn't  speak  to  for  fear  of  losing  your 
character — chaps  you  avoid  in  the  roads — chaps  that 
come  into  a  house  like  oxen,  daub  the  stairs  wi'  their 
boots,  stain  the  furniture  wi'  their  drink,  talk  rubbish 
to  the  servants,  abuse  all  that's  holy  and  righteous,  and 
are  only  saved  from  being  carried  off  by  Old  Nick 
because  they  are  wanted  for  Boney.' 

'  Indeed,  I  didn't  know  you  were  thought  so  bad  of 
as  that,'  said  she  simply. 

'  What !  don't  my  uncle  complain  to  you  of  me  ? 
You  are  a  favourite  of  that  handsome,  nice  old  gaffer's, 
I  know.' 

1  Never.' 

1  Well,  what  do  we  think  of  our  nice  trumpet-major, 
hey?' 

Anne  closed  her  mouth  up  tight,  built  it  up,  in  fact, 
to  show  that  no  answer  was  coming  to  that  question. 

'  O  now,  come,  seriously,  Loveday  is  a  good  fellow, 
and  so  is  his  father.' 

'  I  don't  know.' 

'What  a  close  little  rogue  you  are!  There  is  no 
getting  anything  out  of  you.  I  believe  you  would  say 
'  I  don't  know,'  to  every  mortal  question,  so  very  dis- 
creet as  you  are.  Upon  my  heart,  there  are  some 
women  who  would  say  "I  don't  know,"  to  "Will  ye 
marry  me  ?  "  ' 

The  brightness  upon  Anne's  cheek  and  in  her  eyes 
during  this  remark  showed  that  there  was  a  fair  quantity 
of  life  and  warmth  beneath  the  discretion  he  complained 
of.  Having  spoken  thus,  he  drew  aside  that  she  might 

66 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

pass,  and  bowed  very  low.     Anne  formally  inclined  her- 
self and  went  on. 

She  had  been  at  vexation  point  all  the  time  that  he 
was  present,  from  a  haunting  sense  that  he  would  not 
have  spoken  to  her  so  freely  had  she  been  a  young 
woman  with  thriving  male  relatives  to  keep  forward 
admirers  in  check.  But  she  had  been  struck,  now  as  at 
their  previous  meeting,  with  the  power  she  possessed  of 
working  him  up  either  to  irritation  or  to  complacency 
at  will;  and  this  consciousness  of  being  able  to  play 
upon  him  as  upon  an  instrument  disposed  her  to  a 
humorous  considerateness,  and  made  her  tolerate  even 
while  she  rebuffed  him. 

When  Anne  got  to  the  hall  the  farmer,  as  usual, 
insisted  upon  her  reading  what  he  had  been  unable  to  get 
through,  and  held  the  paper  tightly  in  his  skinny  hand 
till  she  had  agreed.  He  sent  her  to  a  hard  chair  that  she 
could  not  possibly  injure  to  the  extent  of  a  pennyworth 
by  sitting  in  it  a  twelvemonth,  and  watched  her  from  the 
outer  angle  of  his  near  eye  while  she  bent  over  the  paper. 
His  look  might  have  been  suggested  by  the  sight  that 
he  had  witnessed  from  his  window  on  the  last  occasion  of 
her  visit,  for  it  partook  of  the  nature  of  concern.  The 
old  man  was  afraid  of  his  nephew,  physically  and  morally, 
and  he  began  to  regard  Anne  as  a  fellow-sufferer  under 
the  same  despot.  After  this  sly  and  curious  gaze  at  her 
he  withdrew  his  eye  again,  so  that  when  she  casually 
lifted  her  own  there  was  nothing  visible  but  his  keen 
bluish  profile  as  before. 

When  the  reading  was  about  half-way  through,  the 
door  behind  them  opened,  and  footsteps  crossed  the 
threshold.  The  farmer  diminished  perceptibly  in  his 
chair,  and  looked  fearful,  but  pretended  to  be  absorbed 
in  the  reading,  and  quite  unconscious  of  an  intruder. 
Anne  felt  the  presence  of  the  swashing  Festus,  and 
stopped  her  reading. 

1  Please  go  on,  Miss  Anne,'  he  said,  '  I  am  not  going 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

to  speak  a  word.'  He  withdrew  to  the  mantelpiece  and 
leaned  against  it  at  his  ease. 

'  Go  on,  do  ye,  maidy  Anne,'  said  Uncle  Benjy,  keep- 
ing down  his  tremblings  by  a  great  effort  to  half  their 
natural  extent. 

Anne's  voice  became  much  lower  now  that  there  were 
two  listeners,  and  her  modesty  shrank  somewhat  from 
exposing  to  Festus  the  appreciative  modulations  which 
an  intelligent  interest  in  the  subject  drew  from  her  when 
unembarrassed.  But  she  still  went  on  that  he  might  not 
suppose  her  to  be  disconcerted,  though  the  ensuing  ten 
minutes  was  one  of  disquietude.  She  knew  that  the 
bothering  yeoman's  eyes  were  travelling  over  her  from  his 
position  behind,  creeping  over  her  shoulders,  up  to  her 
head,  and  across  her  arms  and  hands.  Old  Benjy  on  his 
part  knew  the  same  thing,  and  after  sundry  endeavours 
to  peep  at  his  nephew  from  the  corner  of  his  eye,  he 
could  bear  the  situation  no  longer. 

*  Do  ye  want  to  say  anything  to  me,  nephew  ? '  he 
quaked. 

*  No,  uncle,  thank  ye,'  said  Festus  heartily.     '  I  like 
to  stay  here,  thinking  of  you  and  looking  at  your  back 
hair/ 

The  nervous  old  man  writhed  under  this  vivisection, 
and  Anne  read  on ;  till,  to  the  relief  of  both,  the  gallant 
fellow  grew  tired  of  his  amusement  and  went  out  of  the 
room.  Anne  soon  finished  her  paragraph  and  rose  to 
go,  determined  never  to  come  again  as  long  as  Festus 
haunted  the  precincts.  Her  face  grew  warmer  as  she 
thought  that  he  would  be  sure  to  waylay  her  on  her 
journey  home  to-day. 

On  this  account,  when  she  left  the  house,  instead  of 
going  in  the  customary  direction,  she  bolted  round  to 
the  further  side,  through  the  bushes,  along  under  the 
kitchen-garden  wall,  and  through  a  door  leading  into  a 
rutted  cart-track,  which  had  been  a  pleasant  gravelled 
drive  when  the  fine  old  hall  was  in  its  prosperity. 

68 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

Once  out  of  sight  of  the  windows  she  ran  with  all  her 
might  till  she  had  quitted  the  park  by  a  route  directly 
opposite  to  that  towards  her  home.  Why  she  was  so 
seriously  bent  upon  doing  this  she  could  hardly  tell ; 
but  the  instinct  to  run  was  irresistible. 

It  was  necessary  now  to  clamber  over  the  down  to 
the  left  of  the  camp,  and  make  a  complete  circuit  round 
the  latter- — infantry,  cavalry,  sutlers,  and  all — descend- 
ing to  her  house  on  the  other  side.  This  tremendous 
walk  she  performed  at  a  rapid  rate,  never  once  turning 
her  head,  and  avoiding  every  beaten  track  to  keep  clear 
of  the  knots  of  soldiers  taking  a  walk.  When  she  at 
last  got  down  to  the  levels  again  she  paused  to  fetch 
breath,  and  murmured,  'Why  did  I  take  so  much 
trouble?  He  would  not,  after  all,  have  hurt  me.' 

As  she  neared  the  mill  an  erect  figure  with  a  blue 
body  and  white  thighs  descended  before  her  from  the 
down  towards  the  village,  and  went  past  the  mill  to  a 
stile  beyond,  over  which  she  usually  returned  to  her 
house.  Here  he  lingered.  On  coming  nearer  Anne 
discovered  this  person  to  be  Trumpet-major  Loveday; 
and  not  wishing  to  meet  anybody  just  now  Anne  passed 
quickly  on,  and  entered  the  house  by  the  garden  door. 

*  My  dear  Anne,  what  a  time  you  have  been  gone ! ' 
said  her  mother. 

'  Yes,  I  have  been  round  by  another  road.' 

4  Why  did  you  do  that  ? ' 

Anne  looked  thoughtful  and  reticent,  for  her  reason 
was  almost  too  silly  a  one  to  confess.  '  Well,  I  wanted 
to  avoid  a  person  who  is  very  busy  trying  to  meet  me — 
that's  all,'  she  said. 

Her  mother  glanced  out  of  the  window.  '  And  there 
he  is,  I  suppose,'  she  said,  as  John  Loveday,  tired  of 
looking  for  Anne  at  the  stile,  passed  the  house  on  his 
way  to  his  father's  door.  He  could  not  help  casting 
his  eyes  towards  their  window,  and,  seeing  them,  he 
smiled. 


THE   TRUMPET-MAJOR 

Anne's  reluctance  to  mention  Festus  was  such  that 
she  did  not  correct  her  mother's  error,  and  the  dame 
went  on :  '  Well,  you  are  quite  right,  my  dear.  Be 
friendly  with  him,  but  no  more  at  present.  I  have 
heard  of  your  other  affair,  and  think  it  is  a  very  wise 
choice.  I  am  sure  you  have  my  best  wishes  in  it,  and 
I  only  hope  it  will  come  to  a  point.' 

1  What's  that  ?  '  said  the  astonished  Anne. 

'  You  and  Mr.  Festus  Derriman,  dear.  You  need 
not  mind  me;  I  have  known  it  for  several  days.  Old 
Granny  Seamore  called  here  Saturday,  and  told  me 
she  saw  him  coming  home  with  you  across  Park  Close 
last  week,  when  you  went  for  the  newspaper ;  so  I 
thought  I'd  send  you  again  to-day,  and  give  you  another 
chance.' 

1  Then  you  didn't  want  the  paper — and  it  was  only 
for  that !  ' 

'  He's  a  very  fine  young  fellow  ;  he  looks  a  thorough 
woman's  protector.' 

'  He  may  look  it,'  said  Anne. 

'  He  has  given  up  the  freehold  farm  his  father  held 
at  Pitstock,  and  lives  in  independence  on  what  the  land 
brings  him.  And  when  Farmer  Derriman  dies,  he'll 
have  all  the  old  man's,  for  certain.  He'll  be  worth  ten 
thousand  pounds,  if  a  penny,  in  money,  besides  sixteen 
horses,  cart  and  hack,  a  fifty-cow  dairy,  and  at  least  five 
hundred  sheep.' 

Anne  turned  away,  and  instead  of  informing  her 
mother  that  she  had  been  running  like  a  doe  to  escape 
the  interesting  heir-presumptive  alluded  to,  merely  said, 
'  Mother,  I  don't  like  this  at  all.' 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 


ANNE  IS  KINDL  Y  FETCHED 

BY  THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

IX 

AFTER  this,  Anne  would  on  no  account  walk  in  the 
direction  of  the  hall  for  fear  of  another  encounter  with 
young  Derriman.  In  the  course  of  a  few  days  it  was 
told  in  the  village  that  the  old  farmer  had  actually 
gone  for  a  week's  holiday  and  change  of  air  to  the 
Royal  watering-place  near  at  hand,  at  the  instance  of 
his  nephew  Festus.  This  was  a  wonderful  thing  to 
hear  of  Uncle  Benjy,  who  had  not  slept  outside  the 
walls  of  Oxwell  Hall  for  many  a  long  year  before ; 
and  Anne  well  imagined  what  extraordinary  pressure 
must  have  been  put  upon  him  to  induce  him  to  take 
such  a  step.  She  pictured  his  unhappiness  at  the 
bustling  watering-place,  and  hoped  no  harm  would  come 
to  him. 

She  spent  much  of  her  time  indoors  or  in  the 
garden,  hearing  little  of  the  camp  movements  beyond  the 
periodical  Ta-ta-ta-taa  of  the  trumpeters  sounding  their 
various  ingenious  calls  for  watch- setting,  stables,  feed, 
boot-and-saddle,  parade,  and  so  on,  which  made  her 
think  how  clever  her  friend  the  trumpet-major  must 
be  to  teach  his  pupils  to  play  those  pretty  little  tunes 
so  well. 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

On  the  third  morning  after  Uncle  Benjy's  departure, 
she  was  disturbed  as  usual  while  dressing  by  the  tramp 
of  the  troops  down  the  slope  to  the  mill-pond,  and 
during  the  now  familiar  stamping  and  splashing  which 
followed  there  sounded  upon  the  glass  of  the  window 
a  slight  smack,  which  might  have  been  caused  by  a 
whip  or  switch.  She  listened  more  particularly,  and 
it  was  repeated. 

As  John  Loveday  was  the  only  dragoon  likely  to 
be  aware  that  she  slept  in  that  particular  apartment, 
she  imagined  the  signal  to  come  from  him,  though 
wondering  that  he  should  venture  upon  such  a  freak  of 
familiarity. 

Wrapping  herself  up  in  a  red  cloak,  she  went  to  the 
window,  gently  drew  up  a  corner  of  the  curtain,  and 
peeped  out,  as  she  had  done  many  times  before.  Nobody 
who  was  not  quite  close  beneath  her  window  could  see 
her  face  ;  but  as  it  happened,  somebody  was  close.  The 
soldiers  whose  floundering  Anne  had  heard  were  not 
Loveday's  dragoons,  but  a  troop  of  the  York  Hussars, 
quite  oblivious  of  her  existence.  They  had  passed  on 
out  of  the  water,  and  instead  of  them  there  sat  Festus 
Derriman  alone  on  his  horse,  and  in  plain  clothes,  the 
water  reaching  up  to  the  animal's  belly,  and  Festus'  heels 
elevated  over  the  saddle  to  keep  them  out  of  the  stream, 
which  threatened  to  wash  rider  and  horse  into  the  deep 
mill-head  just  below.  It  was  plainly  he  who  had  struck 
her  lattice,  for  in  a  moment  he  looked  up,  and  their  eyes 
met.  Festus  laughed  loudly,  and  slapped  her  window 
again;  and  just  at  that  moment  the  dragoons  began 
prancing  down  the  slope  in  review  order.  She  could  not 
but  wait  a  minute  or  two  to  see  them  pass.  While  doing 
so  she  was  suddenly  led  to  draw  back,  drop  the  corner  of 
the  curtain,  and  blush  privately  in  her  room.  She  had 
not  only  been  seen  by  Festus  Derriman,  but  by  John 
Loveday,  who,  riding  along  with  his  trumpet  slung  up 
behind  him,  had  looked  over  his  shoulder  at  the  pheno- 

72 


THE   TRUMPET-MAJOR 

menon  of  Derriman  beneath  Anne's  bedroom  window, 
and  seemed  quite  astounded  at  the  sight. 

She  was  quite  vexed  at  the  conjunction  of  incidents, 
and  went  no  more  to  the  window  till  the  dragoons  had 
ridden  far  away  and  she  had  heard  Festus's  horse  labo- 
riously wade  on  to  dry  land.  When  she  looked  out  there 
was  nobody  left  but  Miller  Loveday,  who  usually  stood 
in  the  garden  at  this  time  of  the  morning  to  say  a  word  or 
two  to  the  soldiers,  of  whom  he  already  knew  so  many, 
and  was  in  a  fair  way  of  knowing  many  more,  from  the 
liberality  with  which  he  handed  round  mugs  of  cheering 
liquor  whenever  parties  of  them  walked  that  way. 

In  the  afternoon  of  this  day  Anne  walked  to  a  chris- 
tening party  at  a  neighbour's  in  the  adjoining  parish  of 
Springham,  intending  to  walk  home  again  before  it  got 
dark ;  but  there  was  a  slight  fall  of  rain  towards  evening, 
and  she  was  pressed  by  the  people  of  the  house  to  stay 
over  the  night.  With  some  hesitation  she  accepted  their 
hospitality ;  but  at  ten  o'clock,  when  they  were  thinking 
of  going  to  bed,  they  were  startled  by  a  smart  rap  at  the 
door,  and  on  it  being  unbolted  a  man's  form  was  seen  in 
the  shadows  outside. 

*  Is    Miss   Garland  here  ? '   the   visitor  inquired,   at 
which  Anne  suspended  her  breath. 

'  Yes,'  said  Anne's  entertainer,  warily. 

*  Her  mother  is  very  anxious  to  know  what's  become 
of  her.     She  promised  to  come  home.'     To  her  great 
relief  Anne  recognized  the  voice  as  John  Loveday's,  and 
not  Festus  Derriman's. 

'  Yes,  I  did,  Mr.  Loveday,'  said  she,  coming  forward; 
'  but  it  rained,  and  I  thought  my  mother  would  guess 
where  I  was/ 

Loveday  said  with  diffidence  that  it  had  not  rained 
anything  to  speak  of  at  the  camp,  or  at  the  mill,  so  that 
her  mother  was  rather  alarmed. 

'  And  she  asked  you  to  come  for  me  ? '  Anne 
inquired. 

73 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

This  was  a  question  which  the  trumpet-major  had 
been  dreading  during  the  whole  of  his  walk  thither. 
1  Well,  she  didn't  exactly  ask  me/  he  said  rather  lamely, 
but  still  in  a  manner  to  show  that  Mrs.  Garland  had 
indirectly  signified  such  to  be  her  wish.  In  reality  Mrs. 
Garland  had  not  addressed  him  at  all  on  the  subject. 
She  had  merely  spoken  to  his  father  on  finding  that  her 
daughter  did  not  return,  and  received  an  assurance  from 
the  miller  that  the  precious  girl  was  doubtless  quite  safe. 
John  heard  of  this  inquiry,  and,  having  a  pass  that 
evening,  resolved  to  relieve  Mrs.  Garland's  mind  on  his 
own  responsibility.  Ever  since  his  morning  view  of 
Festus  under  her  window  he  had  been  on  thorns  of 
anxiety,  and  his  thrilling  hope  now  was  that  she  would 
walk  back  with  him. 

He  shifted  his  foot  nervously  as  he  made  the  bold 
request.  Anne  felt  at  once  that  she  would  go.  There 
was  nobody  in  the  world  whose  care  she  would  more 
readily  be  under  than  the  trumpet-major's  in  a  case  like 
the  present.  He  was  their  nearest  neighbour's  son,  and 
she  had  liked  his  single-minded  ingenuousness  from  the 
first  moment  of  his  return  home. 

When  they  had  started  on  their  walk,  Anne  said  in  a 
practical  way,  to  show  that  there  was  no  sentiment  what- 
ever in  her  acceptance  of  his  company,  '  Mother  was 
much  alarmed  about  me,  perhaps  ?  ' 

'  Yes  :  she  was  uneasy,'  he  said ;  and  then  was  com- 
pelled by  conscience  to  make  a  clean  breast  of  it.  '  I 
know  she  was  uneasy,  because  my  father  said  so.  But  I 
did  not  see  her  myself.  The  truth  is,  she  doesn't  know 
I  am  come.' 

Anne  now  saw  how  the  matter  stood;  but  she  was 
not  offended  with  him.  What  woman  could  have  been  ? 
They  walked  on  in  silence,  the  respectful  trumpet-major 
keeping  a  yard  off  on  her  right  as  precisely  as  if  that 
measure  had  been  fixed  between  them.  She  had  a  great 
feeling  of  civility  toward  him  this  evening,  and  spoke 

74 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

again.     '  I  often  hear  your  trumpeters  blowing  the  calls. 
They  do  it  beautifully,  I  think.' 

'  Pretty  fair ;  they  might  do  better,'  said  he,  as  one 
too  well-mannered  to  make  much  of  an  accomplishment 
in  which  he  had  a  hand. 

*  And  you  taught  them  how  to  do  it  ? ' 
« Yes,  I  taught  them.' 

'  It  must  require  wonderful  practice  to  get  them  into 
the  way  of  beginning  and  finishing  so  exactly  at  one 
time.  It  is  like  one  throat  doing  it  all.  How  came  you 
to  be  a  trumpeter,  Mr.  Loveday  ? ' 

'  Well,  I  took  to  it  naturally  when  I  was  a  little  boy,' 
said  he,  betrayed  into  quite  a  gushing  state  by  her 
delightful  interest.  '  I  used  to  make  trumpets  of  paper, 
eldersticks,  eltrot  stems,  and  even  stinging-nettle  stalks, 
you  know.  Then  father  set  me  to  keep  the  birds  off 
that  little  barley-ground  of  his,  and  gave  me  an  old  horn 
to  frighten  'em  with.  I  learnt  to  blow  that  horn  so  that 
you  could  hear  me  for  miles  and  miles.  Then  he  bought 
me  a  clarionet,  and  when  I  could  play  that  I  borrowed 
a  serpent,  and  I  learned  to  play  a  tolerable  bass.  So 
when  I  'listed  I  was  picked  out  for  training  as  trumpeter 
at  once.' 

'  Of  course  you  were.' 

'  Sometimes,  however,  I  wish  I  had  never  joined  the 
army.  My  father  gave  me  a  very  fair  education,  and 
your  father  showed  me  how  to  draw  horses — on  a  slate, 
I  mean.  Yes,  I  ought  to  have  done  more  than  I  have.' 

'What,  did  you  know  my  father?'  she  asked  with 
new  interest. 

*  O  yes,  for  years.     You  were  a  little  mite  of  a  thing 
then ;  and  you  used  to  cry  when  we  big  boys  looked  at 
you,  and  made  pig's  eyes  at  you,  which  we  did  some- 
times.    Many  and  many  a  time  have  I  stood  by  your 
poor  father  while  he  worked.     Ah,  you  don't  remember 
much  about  him ;  but  I  do  !  ' 

Anne    remained    thoughtful ;    and    the  moon  broke 
75 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

from  behind  the  clouds,  lighting  up  the  wet  foliage  with 
a  twinkling  brightness,  and  lending  to  each  of  the 
trumpet-major's  buttons  and  spurs  a  little  ray  of  its  own. 
They  had  come  to  Oxwell  park  gate,  and  he  said,  *  Do 
you  like  going  across,  or  round  by  the  lane  ?  ' 

1  We  may  as  well  go  by  the  nearest  road,'  said 
Anne. 

They  entered  the  park,  following  the  half-obliterated 
drive  till  they  came  almost  opposite  the  hall,  when  they 
entered  a  footpath  leading  on  to  the  village.  While 
hereabout  they  heard  a  shout,  or  chorus  of  exclamation, 
apparently  from  within  the  walls  of  the  dark  buildings 
near  them. 

«  What  was  that  ?  '  said  Anne. 

*  I  don't  know,'  said  her  companion.  *  I'll  go  and 
see.' 

He  went  round  the  intervening  swamp  of  watercress 
and  brooklime  which  had  once  been  the  fish-pond, 
crossed  by  a  culvert  the  trickling  brook  that  still  flowed 
that  way,  and  advanced  to  the  wall  of  the  house. 
Boisterous  noises  were  resounding  from  within,  and  he 
was  tempted  to  go  round  the  corner,  where  the  low 
windows  were,  and  look  through  a  chink  into  the  room 
whence  the  sounds  proceeded. 

It  was  the  room  in  which  the  owner  dined — tradition- 
ally called  the  great  parlour — and  within  it  sat  about  a 
dozen  young  men  of  the  yeomanry  cavalry,  one  of  them 
being  Festus.  They  were  drinking,  laughing,  singing, 
thumping  their  fists  on  the  tables,  and  enjoying  them- 
selves in  the  very  perfection  of  confusion.  The  candles, 
blown  by  the  breeze  from  the  partly  opened  window,  had 
guttered  into  coffin  handles  and  shrouds,  and,  choked 
by  their  long  black  wicks  for  want  of  snuffing,  gave  out 
a  smoky  yellow  light.  One  of  the  young  men  might 
possibly  have  been  in  a  maudlin  state,  for  he  had  his 
arm  round  the  neck  of  his  next  neighbour.  Another 
was  making  an  incoherent  speech  to  which  nobody  was 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

listening.  Some  of  their  faces  were  red,  some  were 
sallow  ;  some  were  sleepy,  some  wide  awake.  The  only 
one  among  them  who  appeared  in  his  usual  frame  of 
mind  was  Festus,  whose  huge,  burly  form  rose  at  the 
head  of  the  table,  enjoying  with  a  serene  and  triumphant 
aspect  the  difference  between  his  own  condition  and  that 
of  his  neighbours.  While  the  trumpet-major  looked,  a 
young  woman,  niece  of  Anthony  Cripplestraw,  and  one 
of  Uncle  Benjy's  servants,  was  called  in  by  one  of  the 
crew,  and  much  against  her  will  a  fiddle  was  placed  in 
her  hands,  from  which  they  made  her  produce  discordant 
screeches. 

The  absence  of  Uncle  Benjy  had,  in  fact,  been  con- 
trived by  young  Derriman  that  he  might  make  use  of  the 
hall  on  his  own  account.  Cripplestraw  had  been  left  in 
charge,  and  Festus  had  found  no  difficulty  in  forcing 
from  that  dependent  the  keys  of  whatever  he  required. 
John  Loveday  turned  his  eyes  from  the  scene  to  the 
neighbouring  moonlit  path,  where  Anne  still  stood  wait- 
ing. Then  he  looked  into  the  room,  then  at  Anne  again. 
It  was  an  opportunity  of  advancing  his  own  cause  with 
her  by  exposing  Festus,  for  whom  he  began  to  entertain 
hostile  feelings  of  no  mean  force. 

'  No ;  I  can't  do  it,'  he  said.  '  'Tis  underhand.  Let 
things  take  their  chance.' 

He  moved  away,  and  then  perceived  that  Anne, 
tired  of  waiting,  had  crossed  the  stream,  and  almost 
come  up  with  him. 

'  What  is  the  noise  about  ? '  she  said. 

'  There's  company  in  the  house/  said  Loveday. 

'  Company  ?  Farmer  Derriman  is  not  at  home,1 
said  Anne,  and  went  on  to  the  window  whence  the  rays 
of  light  leaked  out,  the  trumpet-major  standing  where 
he  was.  He  saw  her  face  enter  the  beam  of  candle- 
light, stay  there  for  a  moment,  and  quickly  withdraw. 
She  came  back  to  him  at  once.  '  Let  us  go  on,'  she 
said. 

77 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

Loveday  imagined  from  her  tone  that  she  must  have 
an  interest  in  Derriman,  and  said  sadly,  '  You  blame 
me  for  going  across  to  the  window,  and  leading  you 
to  follow  me.' 

'  Not  a  bit,'  said  Anne,  seeing  his  mistake  as  to  the 
state  of  her  heart,  and  being  rather  angry  with  him 
for  it.  '  I  think  it  was  most  natural,  considering  the 
noise.' 

Silence  again.  '  Derriman  is  sober  as  a  judge,'  said 
Loveday,  as  they  turned  to  go.  '  It  was  only  the  others 
who  were  noisy.' 

'  Whether  he  is  sober  or  not  is  nothing  whatever  to 
me,'  said  Anne. 

*  Of  course  not.  I  know  it,'  said  the  trumpet-major, 
in  accents  expressing  unhappiness  at  her  somewhat  curt 
tone,  and  some  doubt  of  her  assurance. 

Before  they  had  emerged  from  the  shadow  of  the  hall 
some  persons  were  seen  moving  along  the  road.  Love- 
day  was  for  going  on  just  the  same;  but  Anne,  from 
a  shy  feeling  that  it  was  as  well  not  to  be  seen  walking 
alone  with  a  man  who  was  not  her  lover,  said — 

'  Mr.  Loveday,  let  us  wait  here  a  minute  till  they 
have  passed.' 

On  nearer  view  the  group  was  seen  to  comprise  a 
man  on  a  piebald  horse,  and  another  man  walking 
beside  him.  When  they  were  opposite  the  house  they 
halted,  and  the  rider  dismounted,  whereupon  a  dispute 
between  him  and  the  other  man  ensued,  apparently  on 
a  question  of  money. 

'  Tis  old  Mr.  Derriman  come  home ! '  said  Anne. 
'  He  has  hired  that  horse  from  the  bathing-machine  to 
bring  him.  Only  fancy  !  ' 

Before  they  had  gone  many  steps  further  the  farmer 
and  his  companion  had  ended  their  dispute,  and  the 
latter  mounted  the  horse  and  cantered  away,  Uncle 
Benjy  coming  on  to  the  house  at  a  nimble  pace.  As 
soon  as  he  observed  Loveday  and  Anne,  he  fell  into 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

a   feebler   gait ;    when    they   came    up   he    recognized 
Anne. 

*  And  you  have  torn  yourself  away  from  King  George's 
Esplanade  so  soon,  Farmer  Derriman  ? '  said  she. 

'  Yes,  faith  !  I  couldn't  bide  at  such  a  ruination 
place,'  said  the  farmer.  '  Your  hand  in  your  pocket 
every  minute  of  the  day.  'Tis  a  shilling  for  this,  half- 
a-crown  for  that;  if  you  only  eat  one  egg,  or  even  a 
poor  windfall  of  an  apple,  you've  got  to  pay;  and  a 
bunch  o'  radishes  is  a  halfpenny,  and  a  quart  o'  cider 
a  good  tuppence  three-farthings  at  lowest  reckoning. 
Nothing  without  paying  !  I  couldn't  even  get  a  ride 
homeward  upon  that  screw  without  the  man  wanting 
a  shilling  for  it,  when  my  weight  didn't  take  a  penny 
out  of  the  beast.  I've  saved  a  penn'orth  or  so  of  shoe- 
leather  to  be  sure ;  but  the  saddle  was  so  rough  wi' 
patches  that  'a  took  twopence  out  of  the  seat  of  my 
best  breeches.  King  George  hev'  ruined  the  town  for 
other  folks.  More  than  that,  my  nephew  promised  to 
come  there  to-morrow  to  see  me,  and  if  I  had  stayed 
I  must  have  treated  en.  Hey — what's  that  ?  ' 

It  was  a  shout  from  within  the  walls  of  the  building, 
and  Loveday  said — 

*  Your  nephew  is  here,  and  has  company.' 

*  My  nephew  here  ? ?  gasped  the  old  man.     c  Good 
folks,  will  you  come  up  to  the  door  with  me  ?     I  mean 
— hee — hee — just  for  company  !     Dear  me,  I  thought 
my  house  was  as  quiet  as  a  church ! ' 

They  went  back  to  the  window,  and  the  farmer  looked 
in,  his  mouth  falling  apart  to  a  greater  width  at  the 
corners  than  in  the  middle,  and  his  fingers  assuming  a 
state  of  radiation. 

*  'Tis  my  best  silver  tankards  they've  got,  that  I've 
never   used  !       O,   'tis    my    strong    beer !      'Tis    eight 
candles  guttering  away,   when   I've  used  nothing  but 
twenties  myself  for  the  last  half-year ! ' 

*  You  didn't  know  he  was  here,  then  ? '  said  Loveday. 

79 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

'  O  no ! '  said  the  farmer,  shaking  his  head  half- 
way. *  Nothing's  known  to  poor  I !  There's  my  best 
rummers  jingling  as  careless  as  if  'twas  tin  cups ;  and 
my  table  scratched,  and  my  chairs  wrenched  out  of 
joint.  See  how  they  tilt  'em  on  the  two  back  legs — 
and  that's  ruin  to  a  chair !  Ah !  when  I  be  gone  he 
won't  find  another  old  man  to  make  such  work  with, 
and  provide  goods  for  his  breaking,  and  house-room  and 
drink  for  his  tear-brass  set ! ' 

*  Comrades  and   fellow-soldiers,'   said  Festus  to  the 
hot  farmers  and  yeomen  he  entertained  within,  '  as  we 
have  vowed  to  brave  danger  and  death  together,  so  we'll 
share  the  couch  of  peace.     You  shall  sleep  here  to-night, 
for  it  is  getting  late.     My  scram  blue-vinnied  gallicrow 
of  an  uncle  takes  care  that  there  shan't  be  much  comfort 
in  the  house,  but  you  can  curl  up  on  the  furniture  if 
beds  run  short.     As  for  my  sleep,  it  won't  be  much. 
I'm  melancholy !     A  woman  has,  I   may  say,  got  my 
heart  in  her  pocket,  and  I  have  hers  in  mine.     She's 
not  much — to  other  folk,  I  mean — but  she  is  to  me. 
The  little  thing  came  in  my  way,  and  conquered  me. 
I  fancy  that  simple  girl !     I  ought  to  have  looked  higher 
— I   know  it ;    what  of   that  ?     'Tis   a  fate  that   may 
happen  to  the  greatest  men.' 

*  Whash  her  name  ?  '  said  one  of  the  warriors,  whose 
head   occasionally  drooped   upon   his   epaulettes,    and 
whose  eyes  fell  together  in  the  casual  manner  charac- 
teristic of  the  tired  soldier.     (It  was  really  Farmer  Stubb, 
of  Duddle  Hole.) 

4  Her  name  ?  Well,  'tis  spelt,  A,  N — but,  by  gad, 
I  won't  give  ye  her  name  here  in  company.  She  don't 
live  a  hundred  miles  off,  however,  and  she  wears  the 
prettiest  cap-ribbons  you  ever  saw.  Well,  well;  'tis 
weakness  !  She  has  little,  and  I  have  much ;  but  I  do 
adore  that  girl,  in  spite  of  myself ! ' 

'  Let's  go  on,'  said  Anne. 

*  Prithee  stand  by  an  old  man  till  he's  got  into  his 

80 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

house  ! '  implored  Uncle  Benjy.  *  I  only  ask  ye  to  bide 
within  call.  Stand  back  under  the  trees,  and  I'll  do  my 
poor  best  to  give  no  trouble.' 

'  I'll  stand  by  you  for  half-an-hour,  sir,'  said  Loveday. 
'  After  that  I  must  bolt  to  camp.' 

'Very  well;  bide  back  there  under  the  trees,'  said 
Uncle  Benjy.  '  I  don't  want  to  spite  'em  ! ' 

*  You'll  wait  a  few  minutes,  just  to  see  if  he  gets  in  ?  ' 
said  the  trumpet-major  to  Anne  as  they  retired  from  the 
old  man. 

'  I  want  to  get  home,'  said  Anne  anxiously. 

When  they  had  quite  receded  behind  the  tree-trunks 
and  he  stood  alone,  Uncle  Benjy,  to  their  surprise,  set  up 
a  loud  shout,  altogether  beyond  the  imagined  power  of 
his  lungs. 

'  Man  a-lost !  man  a-lost !  '  he  cried,  repeating  the 
exclamation  several  times  ;  and  then  ran  and  hid  himself 
behind  a  corner  of  the  building.  Soon  the  door  opened, 
and  Festus  and  his  guests  came  tumbling  out  upon  the 
green. 

*  Tis  our  duty  to  help  folks  in  distress,'  said  Festus. 
'  Man  a-lost,  where  are  you  ?  ' 

1  'Twas  across  there,'  said  one  of  his  friends. 

'  No  ;  'twas  here,'  said  another. 

Meanwhile  Uncle  Benjy,  coming  from  his  hiding-place, 
had  scampered  with  the  quickness  of  a  boy  up  to  the 
door  they  had  quitted,  and  slipped  in.  In  a  moment 
the  door  flew  together,  and  Anne  heard  him  bolting  and 
barring  it  inside.  The  revellers,  however,  did  not  notice 
this,  and  came  on  towards  the  spot  where  the  trumpet- 
major  and  Anne  were  standing. 

s  Here's  succour  at  hand,  friends,'  said  Festus.  {  We 
are  all  king's  men ;  do  not  fear  us.' 

'  Thank  you,'  said  Loveday ;  '  so  are  we.'  He  ex- 
plained in  two  words  that  they  were  not  the  distressed 
traveller  who  had  cried  out,  and  turned  to  go  on. 

'  'Tis  she  !  my  life,  'tis  she  !  '  said  Festus,  now  first 
81  F 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

recognizing  Anne.  c  Fair  Anne,  I  will  not  part  from  you 
till  I  see  you  safe  at  your  own  dear  door.' 

1  She's  in  my  hands,'  said  Loveday  civilly,  though  not 
without  firmness,  '  so  it  is  not  required,  thank  you.' 

'  Man,  had  I  but  my  sword ' 

'  Come,'  said  Loveday,  '  I  don't  want  to  quarrel. 
Let's  put  it  to  her.  Whichever  of  us  she  likes  best, 
he  shall  take  her  home.  Miss  Anne,  which  ?  ' 

Anne  would  much  rather  have  gone  home  alone,  but 
seeing  the  remainder  of  the  yeomanry  party  staggering  up 
she  thought  it  best  to  secure  a  protector  of  some  kind. 
How  to  choose  one  without  offending  the  other  and 
provoking  a  quarrel  was  the  difficulty. 

'  You  must  both  walk  home  with  me,'  she  adroitly 
said,  '  one  on  one  side,  and  one  on  the  other.  And  if 
you  are  not  quite  civil  to  one  another  all  the  time,  I'll 
never  speak  to  either  of  you  again.' 

They  agreed  to  the  terms,  and  the  other  yeomen 
arriving  at  this  time  said  they  would  go  also  as  rear- 
guard. 

'  Very  well,'  said  Anne.  '  Now  go  and  get  your  hats, 
and  don't  be  long.' 

*  Ah,  yes  ;  our  hats,'  said  the  yeomanry,  whose  heads 
were  so  hot  that  they  had  forgotten  their  nakedness 
till  then. 

1  You'll  wait  till  we've  got  'em — we  won't  be  a  mo- 
ment,' said  Festus  eagerly. 

Anne  and  Loveday  said  yes,  and  Festus  ran  back  to 
the  house,  followed  by  all  his  band. 

'  Now  let's  run  and  leave  'em,'  said  Anne,  when 
they  were  out  of  hearing. 

'  But  we've  promised  to  wait !  '  said  the  trumpet- 
major  in  surprise. 

'  Promised  to  wait ! '  said  Anne  indignantly.  '  As  if 
one  ought  to  keep  such  a  promise  to  drunken  men  as 
that.  You  can  do  as  you  like,  I  shall  go.' 

'  It  is  hardly  fair  to  leave  the  chaps,'  said  Loveday 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

reluctantly,  and  looking  back  at  them.  But  she  heard 
no  more,  and  flitting  off  under  the  trees,  was  soon  lost 
to  his  sight. 

Festus  and  the  rest  had  by  this  time  reached  Uncle 
Benjy's  door,  which  they  were  discomfited  and  astonished 
to  find  closed.  They  began  to  knock,  and  then  to  kick 
at  the  venerable  timber,  till  the  old  man's  head,  crowned 
with  a  tasselled  nightcap,  appeared  at  an  upper  window, 
followed  by  his  shoulders,  with  apparently  nothing  on 
but  his  shirt,  though  it  was  in  truth  a  sheet  thrown  over 
his  coat. 

'  Fie,  fie  upon  ye  all  for  making  such  a  hullaballoo  at 
a  weak  old  man's  door,'  he  said,  yawning.  '  What's  in 
ye  to  rouse  honest  folks  at  this  time  o'  night  ? ' 

'  Hang  me — why — it's  Uncle  Benjy  !  Haw-haw- 
haw  ! '  said  Festus.  '  Nunc,  why  how  the  devil's  this  ? 
'Tis  I — Festus — wanting  to  come  in.' 

'  O  no,  no,  my  clever  man,  whoever  you  be ! '  said 
Uncle  Benjy  in  a  tone  of  incredulous  integrity.  *  My 
nephew,  dear  boy,  is  miles  away  at  quarters,  and  sound 
asleep  by  this  time,  as  becomes  a  good  soldier.  That 
story  won't  do  to-night,  my  man,  not  at  all.' 

'  Upon  my  soul  'tis  I,'  said  Festus. 

'  Not  to-night,  my  man ;  not  to-night !  Anthony, 
bring  my  blunderbuss,'  said  the  farmer,  turning  and 
addressing  nobody  inside  the  room. 

'  Let's  break  in  the  window-shutters,'  said  one  of  the 
others. 

'  My  wig,  and  we  will ! '  said  Festus.  '  What  a  trick 
of  the  old  man  ! ' 

*  Get  some  big  stones,'  said  the  yeomen,  searching 
under  the  wall. 

'  No ;  forbear,  forbear,'  said  Festus,  beginning  to  be 
frightened  at  the  spirit  he  had  raised.  '  I  forget ;  we 
should  drive  him  into  fits,  for  he's  subject  to  'em,  and 
then  perhaps  'twould  be  manslaughter.  Comrades,  we 
must  march !  No,  we'll  lie  in  the  barn.  I'll  see  into 

83 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

this,  take  my  word  for  't.      Our   honour  is  at  stake. 
Now  let's  back  to  see  my  beauty  home.' 

*  We  can't,  as  we  hav'n't  got  our  hats,'  said  one  of 
his  fellow-troopers — in  domestic  life  Jacob  Noakes,  of 
Muckleford  Farm. 

'  No  more  we  can,'  said  Festus,  in  a  melancholy 
tone.  '  But  I  must  go  to  her  and  tell  her  the  reason. 
She  pulls  me  in  spite  of  all.' 

'She's  gone.  I  saw  her  flee  across  park  while  we 
were  knocking  at  the  door,'  said  another  of  the  yeo- 
manry. 

1  Gone  ! '  said  Festus,  grinding  his  teeth  and  putting 
himself  into  a  rigid  shape.  '  Then  'tis  my  enemy — he 
has  tempted  her  away  with  him  !  But  I  am  a  rich  man, 
and  he's  poor,  and  rides  the  King's 'horse  while  I  ride 
my  own.  Could  I  but  find  that  fellow,  that  regular, 
that  common  man,  I  would — : — '  J~ 

*  Yes  ? '  said  the  trumpet-major,  coming  up  behind 
him. 

*  I,' — said   Festus,  starting  round, — '  I  would   seize 
him  by  the  hand  and  say,  "  Guard  her ;  if  you  are  my 
friend,  guard  her  from  all  harm  !  " ' 

*  A  good   speech.     And   I  will,  too,'  said   Loveday 
heartily. 

'  And  now  for  shelter,'  said  Festus  to  his  companions. 

They  then  unceremoniously  left  Loveday,  without 
wishing  him  good-night,  and  proceeded  towards  the 
barn.  He  crossed  the  park  and  ascended  the  down 
to  the  camp,  grieved  that  he  had  gixen  Anne  cause 
of  complaint,  and  fancying  that  she  held  him  of  slight 
account  beside  his  wealthier  rival. 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 


THE  MATCH-MAKING   VIRTUES 

OF  A  DOUBLE  GARDEN 


ANNE  was  so  flurried  by  the  military  incidents  at- 
tending her  return  home  that  she  was  almost  afraid  to 
venture  alone  outside  her  mother's  premises.  More- 
over, the  numerous  soldiers,  regular  and  otherwise,  that 
haunted  Overcombe  and  its  neighbourhood,  were  getting 
better  acquainted  with  the  villagers,  and  the  result  was 
that  they  were  always  standing  at  garden  gates,  walking 
in  the  orchards,  or  sitting  gossiping  just  within  cottage 
doors,  with  the  bowls  of  their  tobacco-pipes  thrust  out- 
side for  politeness'  sake,  that  they  might  not  defile  the 
air  of  the  household.  Being  gentlemen  of  a  gallant  and 
most  affectionate  nature,  they  naturally  turned  their 
heads  and  smiled  if  a  pretty  girl  passed  by,  which  was 
rather  disconcerting  to  the  latter  if  she  were  unused 
to  society.  Every  belle  in  the  village  soon  had  a  lover, 
and  when  the  belles  were  all  allotted  those  who  scarcely 
deserved  that  title  had  their  turn,  many  of  the  soldiers 
being  not  at  all  particular  about  half-an-inch  of  nose 
more  or  less,  a  trifling  deficiency  of  teeth,  or  a  larger 
crop  of  freckles  than  is  customary  in  the  Saxon  race. 
Thus,  with  one  and  another,  courtship  began  to  be 
practised  in  Overcombe  on  rather  a  large  scale,  and  the 
85 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

dispossessed  young  men  who  had  been  born  in  the  place 
were  left  to  take  their  walks  alone,  where,  instead  of 
studying  the  works  of  nature,  they  meditated  gross  out- 
rages on  the  brave  men  who  had  been  so  good  as  to 
visit  their  village. 

Anne  watched  these  romantic  proceedings  from  her 
window  with  much  interest,  and  when  she  saw  how 
triumphantly  other  handsome  girls  of  the  neighbourhood 
walked  by  on  the  gorgeous  arms  of  Lieutenant  Knock- 
heelmann,  Cornet  Flitzenhart,  and  Captain  Klaspen- 
kissen,  of  the  thrilling  York  Hussars,  who  swore  the 
most  picturesque  foreign  oaths,  and  had  a  wonderful 
sort  of  estate  or  property  called  the  Vaterland  in  their 
country  across  the  sea,  she  was  filled  with  a  sense  of  her 
own  loneliness.  It  made  her  think  of  things  which  she 
tried  to  forget,  and  to  look  into  a  little  drawer  at  some- 
thing soft  and  brown  that  lay  in  a  curl  there,  wrapped 
in  paper.  At  last  she  could  bear  it  no  longer,  and  went 
downstairs. 

( Where  are  you  going  ?  '  said  Mrs.  Garland. 

1  To  see  the  folks,  because  I  am  so  gloomy ! ' 

( Certainly  not  at  present,  Anne.7 

( Why  not,  mother  ? 3  said  Anne,  blushing  with  an 
indefinite  sense  of  being  very  wicked. 

'  Because  you  must  not.  I  have  been  going  to  tell 
you  several  times  not  to  go  into  the  street  at  this  time  of 
day,  Why  not  walk  in  the  morning?  There's  young 
Mr.  Derriman  would  be  glad  to — — ' 

'  Don't  mention  him,  mother,  don't ! ' 

'  Well  then,  dear,  walk  in  the  garden.' 

So  poor  Anne,  who  really  had  not  the  slightest  wish 
to  throw  her  heart  away  upon  a  soldier,  but  merely 
wanted  to  displace  old  thoughts  by  new,  turned  into  the 
inner  garden  from  day  to  day,  and  passed  a  good  many 
hours  there,  the  pleasant  birds  singing  to  her,  and  the 
delightful  butterflies  alighting  on  her  hat,  and  the  horrid 
ants  running  up  her  stockings. 

86 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

This  garden  was  undivided  from  Loveday's,  the  two 
having  originally  been  the  single  garden  of  the  whole 
house.  It  was  a  quaint  old  place,  enclosed  by  a  thorn 
hedge  so  shapely  and  dense  from  incessant  clipping  that 
the  mill-boy  could  walk  along  the  top  without  sinking 
in — a  feat  which  he  often  performed  as  a  means  of  filling 
out  his  day's  work.  The  soil  within  was  of  that  intense 
fat  blackness  which  is  only  seen  after  a  century  of  con- 
stant cultivation.  The  paths  were  grassed  over,  so  that 
people  came  and  went  upon  them  without  being  heard. 
The  grass  harboured  slugs,  and  on  this  account  the 
miller  was  going  to  replace  it  by  gravel  as  soon  as  he  had 
time;  but  as  he  had  said  this  for  thirty  years  without 
doing  it,  the  grass  and  the  slugs  seemed  likely  to  remain. 

The  miller's  man  attended  to  Mrs.  Garland's  piece 
of  the  garden  as  well  as  to  the  larger  portion,  digging, 
planting,  and  weeding  indifferently  in  both,  the  miller 
observing  with  reason  that  it  was  not  worth  while  for  a 
helpless  widow  lady  to  hire  a  man  for  her  little  plot 
when  his  man,  working  alongside,  could  tend  it  without 
much  addition  to  his  labour.  The  two  households  were 
on  this  account  even  more  closely  united  in  the  garden 
than  within  the  mill.  Out  there  they  were  almost  one 
family,  and  they  talked  from  plot  to  plot  with  a  zest 
and  animation  which  Mrs.  Garland  could  never  have 
anticipated  when  she  first  removed  thither  after  her 
husband's  death. 

The  lower  half  of  the  garden,  farthest  from  the  road, 
was  the  most  snug  and  sheltered  part  of  this  snug  and 
sheltered  enclosure,  and  it  was  well  watered  as  the  land 
of  Lot.  Three  small  brooks,  about  a  yard  wide,  ran 
with  a  tinkling  sound  from  side  to  side  between  the 
plots,  crossing  the  path  under  wood  slabs  laid  as 
bridges,  and  passing  out  of  the  garden  through  little 
tunnels  in  the  hedge.  The  brooks  were  so  far  over- 
hung  at  their  brinks  by  grass  and  garden  produce  that, 
had  it  not  been  for  their  perpetual  babbling,  few  would 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

have  noticed  that  they  were  there.  This  was  where 
Anne  liked  best  to  linger  when  her  excursions  became 
restricted  to  her  own  premises;  and  in  a  spot  of  the 
garden  not  far  removed  the  trumpet-major  loved  to 
linger  also. 

Having  by  virtue  of  his  office  no  stable  duty  to  per- 
form, he  came  down  from  the  camp  to  the  mill  almost 
every  day;  and  Anne,  rinding  that  he  adroitly  walked 
and  sat  in  his  father's  portion  of  the  garden  whenever 
she  did  so  in  the  other  half,  could  not  help  smiling  and 
speaking  to  him.  So  his  epaulettes  and  blue  jacket, 
and  Anne's  yellow  gipsy  hat,  were  often  seen  in  dif- 
ferent parts  of  the  garden  at  the  same  time;  but  he 
never  intruded  into  her  part  of  the  enclosure,  nor  did 
she  into  Loveday's.  She  always  spoke  to  him  when 
she  saw  him  there,  and  he  replied  in  deep,  firm  accents 
across  the  gooseberry  bushes,  or  through  the  tall  rows 
of  flowering  peas,  as  the  case  might  be.  He  thus  gave 
her  accounts  at  fifteen  paces  of  his  experiences  in 
camp,  in  quarters,  in  Flanders,  and  elsewhere;  of  the 
difference  between  line  and  column,  of  forced  marches, 
billeting,  and  such-like,  together  with  his  hopes  of  pro- 
motion. Anne  listened  at  first  indifferently ;  but  know- 
ing no  one  else  so  good-natured  and  experienced,  she 
grew  interested  in  him  as  in  a  brother.  By  degrees  his 
gold  lace,  buckles,  and  spurs  lost  all  their  strangeness 
and  were  as  familiar  to  her  as  her  own  clothes. 

At  last  Mrs.  Garland  noticed  this  growing  friend- 
ship, and  began  to  despair  of  her  motherly  scheme  of 
uniting  Anne  to  the  moneyed  Festus.  Why  she  could 
not  take  prompt  steps  to  check  interference  with  her 
plans  arose  partly  from  her  nature,  which  was  the  re- 
verse of  managing,  and  partly  from  a  new  emotional 
circumstance  with  which  she  found  it  difficult  to  reckon. 
The  near  neighbourhood  that  had  produced  the  friend- 
ship of  Anne  for  John  Loveday  was  slowly  effecting  a 
warmer  liking  between  her  mother  and  his  father. 

88 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

Thus  the  month  of  July  passed.  The  troop  horses 
came  with  the  regularity  of  clockwork  twice  a  day  down 
to  drink  under  her  window,  and,  as  the  weather  grew 
hotter,  kicked  up  their  heels  and  shook  their  heads 
furiously  under  the  maddening  sting  of  the  dun-fly. 
The  green  leaves  in  the  garden  became  of  a  darker 
dye,  the  gooseberries  ripened,  and  the  three  brooks 
were  reduced  to  half  their  winter  volume. 

At  length  the  earnest  trumpet-major  obtained  Mrs. 
Garland's  consent  to  take  her  and  her  daughter  to  the 
camp,  which  they  had  not  yet  viewed  from  any  closer 
point  than  their  own  windows.  So  one  afternoon  they 
went,  the  miller  being  one  of  the  party.  The  villagers 
were  by  this  time  driving  a  roaring  trade  with  the 
soldiers,  who  purchased  of  them  every  description  of 
garden  produce,  milk,  butter,  and  eggs  at  liberal  prices. 
The  figures  of  these  rural  sutlers  could  be  seen  creeping 
up  the  slopes,  laden  like  bees,  to  a  spot  in  the  rear  of 
the  camp,  where  there  was  a  kind  of  market-place  on 
the  greensward. 

Mrs.  Garland,  Anne,  and  the  miller  were  conducted 
from  one  place  to  another,  and  on  to  the  quarter  where 
the  soldiers'  wives  lived  who  had  not  been  able  to  get 
lodgings  in  the  cottages  near.  The  most  sheltered  place 
had  been  chosen  for  them,  and  snug  huts  had  been 
built  for  their  use  by  their  husbands,  of  clods,  hurdles,  a 
little  thatch,  or  whatever  they  could  lay  hands  on.  The 
trumpet-major  conducted  his  friends  thence  to  the  large 
barn  which  had  been  appropriated  as  a  hospital,  and  to 
the  cottage  with  its  windows  bricked  up,  that  was  used 
as  the  magazine;  then  they  inspected  the  lines  of 
shining  dark  horses  (each  representing  the  then  high 
figure  of  two-and-twenty  guineas  purchase  money),  stand- 
ing patiently  at  the  ropes  which  stretched  from  one 
picket-post  to  another,  a  bank  being  thrown  up  in  front 
of  them  as  a  protection  at  night. 

They  passed  on  to  the  tents  of  the  German  Legion, 
89 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

a  well-grown  and  rather  dandy  set  of  men,  with  a 
poetical  look  about  their  faces  which  rendered  them 
interesting  to  feminine  eyes.  Hanoverians,  Saxons, 
Prussians,  Swedes,  Hungarians,  and  other  foreigners 
were  numbered  in  their  ranks.  They  were  cleaning 
arms,  which  they  leant  carefully  against  a  rail  when  the 
work  was  complete. 

On  their  return  they  passed  the  mess-house,  a 
temporary  wooden  building  with  a  brick  chimney.  As 
Anne  and  her  companions  went  by,  a  group  of  three  or 
four  of  the  hussars  were  standing  at  the  door  talking 
to  a  dashing  young  man,  who  was  expatiating  on  the 
qualities  of  a  horse  that  one  was  inclined  to  buy.  Anne 
recognized  Festus  Derriman  in  the  seller,  and  Cripple- 
straw  was  trotting  the  animal  up  and  down.  As  soon 
as  she  caught  the  yeoman's  eye  he  came  forward,  making 
some  friendly  remark  to  the  miller,  and  then  turning  to 
Miss  Garland,  who  kept  her  eyes  steadily  fixed  on  the 
distant  landscape  till  he 'got  so  near  that  it  was  impos- 
sible to  do  so  longer.  Festus  looked  from  Anne  to 
the  trumpet-major,  and  from  the  trumpet-major  back 
to  Anne,  with  a  dark  expression  of  face,  as  if  he  sus- 
pected that  there  might  be  a  tender  understanding 
between  them. 

4  Are  you  offended  with  me  ? '  he  said  to  her  in  a  low 
voice  of  repressed  resentment. 

*  No,'  said  Anne. 

'  When  are  you  coming  to  the  hall  again  ?  ' 

'  Never,  perhaps.' 

'  Nonsense,  Anne,'  said  Mrs.  Garland,  who  had  come 
near,  and  smiled  pleasantly  on  Festus.  'You  can  go 
at  any  time,  as  usual.' 

*  Let  her  come  with  me  now,  Mrs.  Garland ;  I  should 
be  pleased  to  walk  along  with  her.     My  man  can  lead 
home  the  horse.' 

1  Thank  you,  but  I  shall  not  come,'  said  Miss  Anne 
coldly. 

90 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

The  widow  looked  unhappily  in  her  daughter's  face, 
distressed  between  her  desire  that  Anne  should  en- 
courage Festus,  and  her  wish  to  consult  Anne's  own 
feelings. 

'  Leave  her  alone,  leave  her  alone,'  said  Festus,  his 
gaze  blackening.  '  Now  I  think  of  it  I  am  glad  she 
can't  come  with  me,  for  I  am  engaged ; '  and  he  stalked 
away. 

Anne  moved  on  with  her  mother,  young  Loveday 
silently  following,  and  they  began  to  descend  the  hill. 

'  Well,  where's  Mr.  Loveday  ? '  asked  Mrs.  Garland. 

'  Father's  behind/  said  John. 

Mrs.  Garland  looked  behind  her  solicitously  ;  and  the 
miller,  who  had  been  waiting  for  the  event,  beckoned 
to  her. 

'  I'll  overtake  you  in  a  minute/  she  said  to  the  younger 
pair,  and  went  back,  her  colour,  for  some  unaccountable 
reason,  rising  as  she  did  so.  The  miller  and  she  then 
came  on  slowly  together,  conversing  in  very  low  tones, 
and  when  they  got  to  the  bottom  they  stood  still.  Love- 
day  and  Anne  waited  for  them,  saying  but  little  to  each 
other,  for  the  rencounter  with  Festus  had  damped  the 
spirits  of  both.  At  last  the  widow's  private  talk  with 
Miller  Loveday  came  to  an  end,  and  she  hastened  on- 
ward, the  miller  going  in  another  direction  to  meet  a 
man  on  business.  When  she  reached  the  trumpet-major 
and  Anne  she  was  looking  very  bright  and  rather  flurried, 
and  seemed  sorry  when  Loveday  said  that  he  must  leave 
them  and  return  to  the  camp.  They  parted  in  their 
usual  friendly  manner,  and  Anne  and  her  mother  were 
left  to  walk  the  few  remaining  yards  alone. 

'  There,  I've  settled  it/  said  Mrs.  Garland.  '  Anne, 
what  are  you  thinking  about?  I  have  settled  in  my 
mind  that  it  is  all  right.' 

1  What's  all  right  ? '  said  Anne. 

'  That  you  do  not  care  for  Derriman,  and  mean  to 
encourage  John  Loveday.  What's  all  the  world  so  long 
91 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

as  folks  are  happy  !  Child,  don't  take  any  notice  of 
what  I  have  said  about  Festus,  and  don't  meet  him  any 
more.' 

( What  a  weathercock  you  are,  mother  !  Why  should 
you  say  that  just  now  ? ' 

*  It  is  easy  to  call  me  a  weathercock,'  said  the  matron, 
putting  on  the  look  of  a  good  woman ;  *  but  I  have 
reasoned  it  out,  and  at  last,  thank  God,  I  have  got  over 
my  ambition.     The    Lovedays    are  our  true  and  only 
friends,  and  Mr.  Festus  Derriman,  with  all  his  money,  is 
nothing  to  us  at  all.' 

'  But,'  said  Anne,  {  what  has  made  you  change  all  of 
a  sudden  from  what  you  have  said  before  ? ' 

*  My  feelings  and  my  reason,  which  I  am  thankful 
for!' 

Anne  knew  that  her  mother's  sentiments  were  natu- 
rally so  versatile  that  they  could  not  be  depended  on  for 
two  days  together ;  but  it  did  not  occur  to  her  for  the 
moment  that  a  change  had  been  helped  on  in  the  present 
case  by  a  romantic  talk  between  Mrs.  Garland  and  the 
miller.  But  Mrs.  Garland  could  not  keep  the  secret 
long.  She  chatted  gaily  as  she  walked,  and  before  they 
had  entered  the  house  she  said,  '  What  do  you  think  Mr. 
Loveday  has  been  saying  to  me,  dear  Anne  ? ' 

Anne  did  not  know  at  all. 

*  Why,  he  has  asked  me  to  marry  him.' 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 


OUR  PEOPLE  ARE 
AFFECTED  BY  THE 

PRESENCE  OF  ROYALTY 

XI 

1  O  explain  the  miller's  sudden  proposal  it  is  only 
necessary  to  go  back  to  that  moment  when  Anne,  Festus, 
and  Mrs.  Garland  were  talking  together  on  the  down. 
John  Loveday  had  fallen  behind  so  as  not  to  interfere 
with  a  meeting  in  which  he  was  decidedly  superfluous ; 
and  his  father,  who  guessed  the  trumpet-major's  secret, 
watched  his  face  as  he  stood.  John's  face  was  sad,  and 
his  eyes  followed  Mrs.  Garland's  encouraging  manner  to 
Festus  in  a  way  which  plainly  said  that  every  parting  of 
her  lips  was  tribulation  to  him.  The  miller  loved  his  son 
as  much  as  any  miller  or  private  gentleman  could  do, 
and  he  was  pained  to  see  John's  gloom  at  such  a  trivial 
circumstance.  So  what  did  he  resolve  but  to  help  John 
there  and  then  by  precipitating  a  matter  which,  had  he 
himself  been  the  only  person  concerned,  he  would  have 
delayed  for  another  six  months. 

He  had  long  liked  the  society  of  his  impulsive,  trac- 
table neighbour,  Mrs.  Garland;  had  mentally  taken 
her  up  and  pondered  her  in  connexion  with  the  ques- 
tion whether  it  would  not  be  for  the  happiness  of 
both  if  she  were  to  share  his  home,  even  though  she 
was  a  little  his  superior  in  antecedents  and  knowledge. 

93 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

In  fact  he  loved  her;  not  tragically,  but  to  a  very 
creditable  extent  for  his  years ;  that  is,  next  to  his  sons, 
Bob  and  John,  though  he  knew  very  well  of  that 
ploughed-ground  appearance  near  the  corners  of  her 
once  handsome  eyes,  and  that  the  little  depression  in 
her  right  cheek  was  not  the  lingering  dimple  it  was 
poetically  assumed  to  be,  but  a  result  of  the  abstraction 
of  some  worn-out  nether  millstones  within  the  cheek 
by  Rootle,  the  Budmouth  man,  who  lived  by  such 
practices  on  the  heads  of  the  elderly.  But  what  of  that, 
when  he  had  lost  two  to  each  one  of  hers,  and  exceeded 
her  in  age  by  some  eight  years !  To  do  John  a  service, 
then,  he  quickened  his  designs,  and  put  the  question 
to  her  while  they  were  standing  under  the  eyes  of  the 
younger  pair. 

Mrs.  Garland,  though  she  had  been  interested  in  the 
miller  for  a  long  time,  and  had  for  a  moment  now  and 
then  thought  on  this  question  as  far  as,  '  Suppose  he 
should,'  '  If  he  were  to,'  and  so  on,  had  never  thought 
much  further  ;  and  she  was  really  taken  by  surprise  when 
the  question  came.  She  answered  without  affectation  that 
she  would  think  over  the  proposal ;  and  thus  they  parted. 

Her  mother's  infirmity  of  purpose  set  Anne  thinking, 
and  she  was  suddenly  filled  with  a  conviction  that  in 
such  a  case  she  ought  to  have  some  purpose  herself. 
Mrs.  Garland's  complacency  at  the  miller's  offer  had,  in 
truth,  amazed  her.  While  her  mother  had  held  up  her 
head,  and  recommended  Festus,  it  had  seemed  a  very 
pretty  thing  to  rebel ;  but  the  pressure  being  removed  an 
awful  sense  of  her  own  responsibility  took  possession  of 
her  mind.  As  there  was  no  longer  anybody  to  be  wise 
or  ambitious  for  her,  surely  she  should  be  wise  and 
ambitious  for  herself,  discountenance  her  mother's 
attachment,  and  "encourage  Festus  in  his  addresses,  for 
her  own  and  her  mother's  good.  There  had  been  a 
time  when  a  Loveday  thrilled  her  own  heart  -}  but  that 
was  long  ago,  before  she  had  thought  of  position  or 

94 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

differences.  To  wake  into  cold  daylight  like  this,  when 
and  because  her  mother  had  gone  into  the  land  of 
romance,  was  dreadful  and  new  to  her,  and  like  an 
increase  of  years  without  living  them. 

But  it  was  easier  to  think  that  she  ought  to  marry 
the  yeoman  than  to  take  steps  for  doing  it ;  and  she 
went  on  living  just  as  before,  only  with  a  little  more 
thoughtfulness  in  her  eyes. 

Two  days  after  the  visit  to  the  camp,  when  she  was 
again  in  the  garden,  Soldier  Loveday  said  to  her,  at  a 
distance  of  five  rows  of  beans  and  a  parsley-bed — 

'  You  have  heard  the  news,  Miss  Garland  ?  ' 

*  No,'  said  Anne,  without  looking  up  from  a  book 
she  was  reading. 

'  The  King  is  coming  to-morrow.' 

<  The  King  ?  '     She  looked  up  then. 

'  Yes ;  to  Gloucester  Lodge ;  and  he  will  pass  this 
way.  He  can't  arrive  till  long  past  the  middle  of  the 
night,  if  what  they  say  is  true,  that  he  is  timed  to  change 
horses  at  Woodyates  Inn — between  Mid  and  South 
Wessex — at  twelve  o'clock,5  continued  Loveday,  encour- 
aged by  her  interest  to  cut  off  the  parsley-bed  from  the 
distance  between  them. 

Miller  Loveday  came  round  the  corner  of  the  house. 

*  Have  ye  heard  about  the  King  coming,  Miss  Maidy 
Anne  ?  '  he  said. 

Anne  said  that  she  had  just  heard  of  it;  and  the 
trumpet7major,  who  hardly  welcomed  his  father  at  such 
a  moment,  explained  what  he  knew  of  the  matter. 

'  And  you  will  go  with  your  regiment  to  meet  'en,  I 
suppose  ?  '  said  old  Loveday. 

Young  Loveday  said  that  the  men  of  the  German 
Legion  were  to  perform  that  duty.  And  turning  half 
from  .his  father,  and  half  towards  Anne,  he  added,  in  a 
tentative  tone,  that  he  thought  he  might  get  leave  for 
the  night,  if  anybody  would  like  to  be  taken  to  the  top 
of  the  Ridgeway  over  which  the  royal  party  must  pass. 

95 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

Anne,  knowing  by  this  time  of  the  budding  hope  in 
the  gallant  dragoon's  mind,  and  not  wishing  to  encour- 
age it,  said,  '  I  don't  want  to  go.' 

The  miller  looked  disappointed  as  well  as  John. 

'  Your  mother  might  like  to  ! ' 

1  Yes,  I  am  going  indoors,  and  I'll  ask  her  if  you 
wish  me  to,'  said  she. 

She  went  indoors  and  rather  coldly  told  her  mother 
of  the  proposal.  Mrs.  Garland,  though  she  had  deter- 
mined not  to  answer  the  miller's  question  on  matrimony 
just  yet,  was  quite  ready  for  this  jaunt,  and  in  spite  of 
Anne  she  sailed  off  at  once  to  the  garden  to  hear  more 
about  it.  When  she  re-entered,  she  said — 

'  Anne,  I  have  not  seen  the  King  .  or  the  King's 
horses  for  these  many  years ;  and  I  am  going.' 

*  Ah,  it  is  well  to  be  you,  mother,'  said  Anne,  in  an 
elderly  tone. 

'  Then  you  won't  come  with  us  ?  '  said  Mrs.  Garland, 
rather  rebuffed. 

'  I  have  very  different  things  to  think  of,'  said  her 
daughter  with  virtuous  emphasis,  'than  going  to  see 
sights  at  that  time  of  night.' 

Mrs.  Garland  was  sorry,  but  resolved  to  adhere  to 
the  arrangement.  The  night  came  on ;  and  it  having 
gone  abroad  that  the  King  would  pass  by  the  road, 
many  of  the  villagers  went  out  to  see  the  procession. 
When  the  two  Lovedays  and  Mrs.  Garland  were  gone, 
Anne  bolted  the  door  for  security,  and  sat  down  to 
think  again  on  her  grave  responsibilities  in  the  choice 
of  a  husband,  now  that  her  natural  guardian  could  no 
longer  be  trusted. 

A  knock  came  to  the  door. 

Anne's  instinct  was  at  once  to  be  silent,  that  the 
comer  might  think  the  family  had  retired. 

The  knocking  person,  however,  was  not  to  be  easily 
persuaded.  He  had  in  fact  seen  rays  of  light  over  the 
top  of  the  shutter,  and,  unable  to  get  an  answer,  went 

96 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

on  to  the  door  of  the  mill,  which  was  still  going,  the 
miller  sometimes  grinding  all  night  when  busy.  The 
grinder  accompanied  the  stranger  to  Mrs.  Garland's 
door. 

'  The  daughter  is  certainly  at  home,  sir,'  said  the 
grinder.  '  I'll  go  round  to  t'other  side,  and  see  if  she's 
there,  Master  Derriman.' 

*  I  want  to  take  her  out  to  see  the  King/  said 
Festus. 

Anne  had  started  at  the  sound  of  the  voice.  No 
opportunity  could  have  been  better  for  carrying  out  her 
new  convictions  on  the  disposal  of  her  hand.  But  in 
her  mortal  dislike  of  Festus,  Anne  forgot  her  principles, 
and  her  idea  of  keeping  herself  above  the  Lovedays. 
Tossing  on  her  hat  and  blowing  out  the  candle,  she 
slipped  out  at  the  back  door,  and  hastily  followed  in  the 
direction  that  her  mother  and  the  rest  had  taken.  She 
overtook  them  as  they  were  beginning  to  climb  the  hill. 

'  What  !  you  have  altered  your  mind  after  all  ?  '  said 
the  widow.  (  How  came  you  to  do  that,  my  dear  ?  ' 

1 1  thought  I  might  as  well  come,'  said  Anne. 

'To  be  sure  you  did,'  said  the  miller  heartily.  'A 
good  deal  better  than  biding  at  home  there.' 

John  said  nothing,  though  she  could  almost  see 
through  the  gloom  how  glad  he  was  that  she  had 
altered  her  mind.  When  they  reached  the  ridge  over 
which  the  highway  stretched  they  found  many  of  their 
neighbours  who  had  got  there  before  them  idling  on 
the  grass  border  between  the  roadway  and  the  hedge, 
enjoying  a  sort  of  midnight  picnic,  which  it  was  easy  to 
do,  the  air  being  still  and  dry.  Some  carriages  were  also 
standing  near,  though  most  people  of  the  district  who 
possessed  four  wheels,  or  even  two,  had  driven  into  the 
town  to  await  the  King  there.  From  this  height  could 
be  seen  in  the  distance  the  position  of  the  watering- 
place,  an  additional  number  of  lanterns,  lamps,  and 
candles  having  been  lighted  to-night  by  the  loyal 

97  G 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

burghers  to  grace  the  royal  entry,  if  it  should  occur 
before  dawn. 

Mrs.  Garland  touched  Anne's  elbow  several  times  as 
they  walked,  and  the  young  woman  at  last  understood 
that  this  was  meant  as  a  hint  to  her  to  take  the  trumpet- 
major's  arm,  which  its  owner  was  rather  suggesting  than 
offering  to  her.  Anne  wondered  what  infatuation  was 
possessing  her  mother,  declined  to  take  the  arm,  and 
contrived  to  get  in  front  with  the  miller,  who  mostly 
kept  in  the  van  to  guide  the  others'  footsteps.  The 
trumpet-major  was  left  with  Mrs.  Garland,  and  Anne's 
encouraging  pursuit  of  them  induced  him  to  say  a  few 
words  to  the  former. 

*  By  your  leave,  ma?am,  I'll  speak  to  you  on  some- 
thing that  concerns  my  mind  very  much  indeed  ?  ' 

'  Certainly.' 

'  It  is  my  wish  to  be  allowed  to  pay  my  addresses  to 
your  daughter.' 

*  I    thought   you    meant   that,'    said    Mrs.    Garland 
simply. 

'  And  you'll  not  object ! ' 

'  I  shall  leave  it  to  her.  J  don't  think  she  will  agree, 
even  if  I  do.' 

The  soldier  sighed,  ancj  seemed  helpless.  «  Well, 
I  can  but  ask  her,'  he  said. 

The  spot  on  which  they  had  finally  chosen  to  wait 
for  the  King  was  by  a  field  gate,  whence  the  white 
road  could  be  seen  for  a  long  distance  northwards  by 
day,  and  some  little  distance  now.  They  lingered  and 
lingered,  but  no  King  came  to  break  the  silence  of 
that  beautiful  summer  night.  As  half-hour  after  half- 
hour  glided  by,  and  nobody  came,  Anne  began  to  get 
weary;  she  knew  why  her  mother  did  not  propose  to 
go  back,  and  regretted  the  reason.  She  would  have 
proposed  it  herself,  but  that  Mrs.  Garland  seemed  so 
cheerful,  and  as  wide  awake  as  at  noonday,  so  that  it 
was  almost  a  cruelty  to  disturb  her. 

98 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

The  trumpet-major  at  last  made  up  his  mind,  and 
tried  to  draw  Anne  into  a  private  conversation.  The 
feeling  which  a  week  ago  had  been  a  vague  and  piquant 
aspiration,  was  to-day  altogether  too  lively  for  the  reason- 
ing of  this  warm-hearted  soldier  to  regulate.  So  he 
persevered  in  his  intention  to  catch  her  alone,  and  at 
last,  in  spite  of  her  manoeuvres  to  the  contrary,  he 
succeeded.  The  miller  and  Mrs.  Garland  had  walked 
about  fifty  yards  further  on,  and  Anne  and  himself  were 
left  standing  by  the  gate. 

But  the  gallant  musician's  soul  was  so  much  disturbed 
by  tender  vibrations  and  by  the  sense  of  his  presumption 
that  he  could  not  begin;  and  it  may  be  questioned 
if  he  would  ever  have  broached  the  subject  at  all, 
had  not  a  distant  church  clock  opportunely  assisted 
him  by  striking  the  hour  of  three.  The  trumpet-major 
heaved  a  breath  of  relief. 

*  That  clock  strikes  in  G  sharp,'  he  said. 
'  Indeed — G  sharp  ?  '  said  Anne  civilly. 

'  Yes.  'Tis  a  fine-toned  bell.  I  used  to  notice  that 
note  when  I  was  a  boy.' 

1  Did  you — the  very  same  ? ' 

*  Yes ;   and   since   then   I   had  a  wager  about   that 
bell  with  the  bandmaster  of  the  North  Wessex  Militia. 
He  said  the  note  was  G ;  I  said  it  wasn't.     When  we 
found  it  G  sharp  we  didn't  know  how  to  settle  it.' 

*  It  is  not  a  deep  note  for  a  clock.' 

'  O  no !  The  finest  tenor  bell  about  herb  is  the 
bell  of  Peter's,  Casterbridge — in  E  flat.  Tum-m-m-m 
—that's  the  note — tum-m-m-m/  The  trumpet-major 
sounded  from  far  down  his  throat  what  he  considered 
to  be  E  flat,  with  a  parenthetic  sense  of  luxury  un- 
quenchable even  by  his  present  distraction. 

1  Shall  we  go  on  to  where  my  mother  is  ? '  said 
Anne,  less  impressed  by  the  beauty  of  the  note  than 
the  trumpet-major  himself  was. 

*  In  one  minute,'  he  said  tremulously.     '  Talking  of 

.99 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

music — I  fear  you  don't  think  the  rank  of  a  trumpet- 
major  much  to  compare  with  your  own  ? ' 

'  I  do.  I  think  a  trumpet-major  a  very  respectable 
man.' 

'I  am  glad  to  hear  you  say  that.  It  is  given  out 
by  the  King's  command  that  trumpet-majors  are  to  be 
considered  respectable.' 

'  Indeed !  Then  I  am,  by  chance,  more  loyal  than  I 
thought  for.' 

'  I  get  a  good  deal  a  year  extra  to  the  trumpeters, 
because  of  my  position.' 

1  That's  very  nice.' 

'And  I  am  not  supposed  ever  to  drink  with  the 
trumpeters  who  serve  beneath  me.' 

'  Naturally.' 

'  And,  by  the  orders  of  the  War  Office,  I  am  to  exert 
over  them  (that's  the  government  word)  exert  over  them 
full  authority ;  and  if  any  one  behaves  towards  me  with 
the  least  impropriety,  or  neglects  my  orders,  he  is  to  be 
confined  and  reported.' 

'  It  is  really  a  dignified  post/  she  said,  with,  however, 
a  reserve  of  enthusiasm  which  was  not  altogether  en- 
couraging. 

'And  of  course  some  day  I  shall,'  stammered  the 
dragoon — '  shall  be  in  rather  a  better  position  than  I  am 
at  present.' 

'  I  am  glad  to  hear  it,  Mr.  Loveday.' 

'  And  in  short,  Mistress  Anne,'  continued  John  Love- 
day  bravely  and  desperately,  '  may  I  pay  court  to  you  in 
the  hope  that — no,  no,  don't  go  away  ! — you  haven't 
heard  yet — that  you  may  make  me  the  happiest  of  men ; 
not  yet,  but  when  peace  is  proclaimed  and  all  is  smooth 
and  easy  again  ?  I  can't  put  it  any  better,  though  there's 
more  to  be  explained.' 

'This  is  most  awkward,'  said  Anne,  evidently  with 
pain.  '  I  cannot  possibly  agree ;  believe  me,  Mr.  Love- 
day,  I  cannot.' 

100 


THE   TRUMPET-MAJOR 

1  But  there's  more  than  this.  You  would  be  sur- 
prised to  see  what  snug  rooms  the  married  trumpet- 
and  sergeant-majors  have  in  quarters.' 

*  Barracks  are  not  all ;  consider  camp  and  war.' 

'  That  brings  me  to  my  strong  point ! '  exclaimed  the 
soldier  hopefully.  *  My  father  is  better  off  than  most 
non-commissioned  officers'  fathers ;  and  there's  always  a 
home  for  you  at  his  house  in  any  emergency.  I  can  tell 
you  privately  that  he  has  enough  to  keep  us  both,  and  if 
you  wouldn't  hear  of  barracks,  well,  peace  once  estab- 
lished, I'd  live  at  home  as  a  miller  and  farmer — next 
door  to  your  own  mother.' 

'  My  mother  would  be  sure  to  object,'  expostulated 
Anne. 

4  No ;  she  leaves  it  all  to  you.' 

1  What !  you  have  asked  her  ? '  said  Anne,  with 
surprise. 

«  Yes.  I  thought  it  would  not  be  honourable  to  act 
otherwise.' 

*  That's  very  good  of  you/  said  Anne,  her  face  warm- 
ing with  a  generous   sense  of  his   straightforwardness. 
'  But  my  mother  is  so  entirely  ignorant  of  a  soldier's  life, 
and  the  life  of  a  soldier's  wife — she  is  so  simple  in  all 
such  matters,   that   I   cannot  listen  to  you  any  more 
readily  for  what  she  may  say.' 

'  Then  it  is  all  over  for  me/  said  the  poor  trumpet- 
major,  wiping  his  face  and  putting  away  his  handkerchief 
with  an  air  of  finality. 

Anne  was  silent.  Any  woman  who  has  ever  tried 
will  know  without  explanation  what  an  unpalatable  task 
it  is  to  dismiss,  even  when  she  does  not  love  him,  a 
man  who  has  all  the  natural  and  moral  qualities  she 
would  desire,  and  only  fails  in  the  social.  Would-be 
lovers  are  not  so  numerous,  even  with  the  best  women, 
that  the  sacrifice  of  one  can  be  felt  as  other  than  a 
good  thing  wasted,  in  a  world  where  there  are  few  good 
things. 

101 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

*  You  are  not  angry,  Miss  Garland  ? '  said  he,  finding 
that  she  did  not  speak. 

'  O  no.  Don't  let  us  say  anything  more  about  this 
now.'  And  she  moved  on. 

When  she  drew  near  to  the  miller  and  her  mother 
she  perceiyed  that  they  were  engaged  in  a  conversation 
of  that  peculiar  kind  which  is  all  the  more  full  and 
communicative  from  the  fact  of  definitive  words  being 
few.  In  short,  here  the  game  was  succeeding  which 
with  herself  had  failed.  It  was  pretty  clear  from  the 
symptoms,  marks,  tokens,  telegraphs,  and  general  by- 
play between  widower  and  widow,  that  Miller  Loveday 
must  have  again  said  to  Mrs.  Garland  some  such  thing 
as  he  had  said  before,  with  what  result  this  time  she  did 
not  know. 

As  the  situation  was  delicate,  Anne  halted  awhile 
apart  from  them.  The  trumpet-major,  quite  ignorant 
of  how  his  cause  was  entered  into  by  the  white-coated 
man  in  the  distance  (for  his  father  had  not  yet  told  him 
of  his  designs  upon  Mrs.  Garland),  did  not  advance, 
but  stood  still  by  the  gate,  as  though  he  were  attending 
a  princess,  waiting  till  he  should  be  called  up.  Thus 
they  lingered,  and  the  day  began  to  break.  Mrs. 
Garland  and  the  miller  took  no  heed  of  the  time,  and 
what  it  was  bringing  to  earth  and  sky,  so  occupied  were 
they  with  themselves ;  but  Anne  in  her  place  and  the 
trumpet-major  in  his,  each  in  private  thought  of  no 
bright  kind,  watched  the  gradual  glory  of  the  east  through 
all  its  tones  and  changes.  The  world  of  birds  and 
insects  got  lively,  the  blue  and  the  yellow  and  the  gold 
of  Loveday's  uniform  again  became  distinct;  the  sun 
bored  its  way  upward,  the  fields,  the  trees,  and  the 
distant  landscape  kindled  to  flame,  and  the  trumpet- 
major,  backed  by  a  lilac  shadow  as  tall  as  a  steeple, 
blazed  in  the  rays  like  a  very  god  of  war.  ' 

It  was  half-past  three  o'clock.  A  short  time  after, 
a  rattle  of  horses  and  wheels  reached  their  ears,  from 
102 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

the  quarter  in  which  they  gazed,  and  there  appeared 
upon  the  white  line  of  road  a  moving  mass,  which  pre- 
sently ascended  the  hill  and  drew  near, 

Then  there  arose  a  huzza  from  the  few  knots  of 
watchers  gathered  there,  and  they  cried,  'Long  live 
King  Jarge  ! '  The  cortege  passed  abreast.  It  consisted 
of  three  travelling-carriages,  escorted  by  a  detachment 
of  the  German  Legion.  Anne  was  told  to  look  in  the 
first  carriage — a  post-chariot  drawn  by  four  horses- — 
for  the  King  and  Queen,  and  was  rewarded  by  seeing  a 
profile  reminding  her  of  the  current  coin  of  the  realm ; 
but  as  the  party  had  been  travelling  all  night,  and  the 
spectators  here  gathered  were  few,  none  of  the  royal 
family  looked  out  of  the  carriage  windows.  It  was  said 
that  the  two  elder  princesses  were  in  the  same  carriage, 
but  they  remained  invisible.  The  next  vehicle,  a  coach 
and  four,  contained  more  princesses,  and  the  third  some 
of  their  attendants. 

'  Thank  God,  I  have  seen  my  King ! '  said  Mrs. 
Garland,  when  they  had  all  gone  by. 

Nobody  else  expressed  any  thankfulness,  for  most  of 
them  had  expected  a  more  pompous  procession  than 
the  bucolic  tastes  of  the  King  cared  to  indulge  in ;  and 
one  old  man  said  grimly  that  that  sight  of  dusty  old 
leather  coaches  was  not  worth  waiting  for.  Anne  looked 
hither  and  thither  in  the  bright  rays  of  the  day,  each  of 
her  eyes  having  a  little  sun  in  it,  which  gave  her  glance 
a  peculiar  golden  fire,  and  kindled  the  brown  curls 
grouped  over  her  forehead  to  a  yellow  brilliancy,  and 
made  single  hairs,  blown  astray  by  the  night,  look  like 
lacquered  wires.  She  was  wondering  if  Festus  were 
anywhere  near,  but  she  could  not  see  him. 

Before  they  left  the  ridge  they  turned  their  attention 
towards  the  Royal  watering-place,  which  was  visible  at 
this  place  only  as  a  portion  of  the  sea-shore,  from  which 
the  night-mist  was  rolling  slowly  back.  The  sea  beyond 
was  still  wrapped  in  summer  fog,  the  ships  in  the  roads 
103 


THE  TRUMPET. MAJOR 

showing  through  it  as  black  spiders  suspended  in  the  air. 
While  they  looked  and  walked  a  white  jet  of  smoke  burst 
from  a  spot  which  the  miller  knew  to  be  the  battery  in 
front  of  the  King's  residence,  and  then  the  report  of  guns 
reached  their  ears.  This  announcement  was  answered 
by  a  salute  from  the  Castle  of  the  adjoining  Isle,  and 
the  ships  in  the  neighbouring  anchorage.  All  the  bells 
in  the  town  began  ringing.  The  King  and  his  family 
had  arrived. 


THE   TRUMPET-MAJOR 


HOW  EVERYBODY 

ORE  A  T  AND  SMALL 
CLIMBED  TO  THE  TOP 

OF  THE  DOWNS 

XII 

As  the  days  went  on,  echoes  of  the  life  and  bustle  of 
the  town  reached  the  ears  of  the  quiet  people  in  Over- 
combe  hollow — exciting  and  moving  those  unimportant 
natives  as  a  ground-swell  moves  the  weeds  in  a  cave. 
Travelling-carriages  of  all  kinds  and  colours  climbed  and 
descended  the  road  that  led  towards  the  seaside  borough. 
Some  contained  those  personages  of  the  King's  suite 
who  had  not  kept  pace  with  him  in  his  journey  from 
Windsor;  others  were  the  coaches  of  aristocracy,  big 
and  little,  whom  news  of  the  King's  arrival  drew  thither 
for  their  own  pleasure  :  so  that  the  highway,  as  seen  from 
the  hills  about  Overcombe,  appeared  like  an  ant-walk — - 
a  constant  succession  of  dark  spots  creeping  along  its 
surface  at  nearly  uniform  rates  of  progress,  and  all  in 
one  direction. 

The  traffic  and  intelligence  between  camp  and  town 
passed  in  a  measure  over  the  villagers'  heads.  It  being 
summer  time  the  miller  was  much  occupied  with  business, 
and  the  trumpet-major  was  too  constantly  engaged  in 
marching  between  the  camp  and  Gloucester  Lodge  with 
the  rest  of  the  dragoons  to  bring  his  friends  any  news  for 
some  days. 

105 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

At  last  he  sent  a  message  that  there  was  to  be  a 
review  on  the  downs  by  the  King,  and  that  it  was  fixed 
for  the  day  following.  This  information  soon  spread 
through  the  village  and  country  round,  and  next  morning 
the  whole  population  of  Overcombe — except  two  or  three 
very  old  men  and  women,  a  few  babies  and  their  nurses, 
a  cripple,  and  Corporal  Tullidge — ascended  the  slope  with 
the  crowds  from  afar,  and  awaited  the  events  of  the  day. 

The  miller  wore  his  best  coat  on  this  occasion,  which 
meant  a  good  deal.  An  Overcombe  man  in  those  days 
would  have  a  best  coat,  and  keep  it  as  a  best  coat  half  his 
life.  The  miller's  had  seen  five  and  twenty  summers, 
chiefly  through  the  chinks  of  a  clothes-box,  and  was  not 
at  all  shabby  as  yet,  though  getting  singular.  But  that 
could  not  be  helped  ;  common  coats  and  best  coats  were 
distinct  species,  and  never  interchangeable.  Living  so 
near  the  scene  of  the  review  he  walked  up  the  hill, 
accompanied  by  Mrs.  Garland  and  Anne  as  usual. 

It  was  a  clear  day,  with  little  wind  stirring,  and  the 
view  from  the  downs,  one  of  the  most  extensive  in  the 
county,  was  unclouded.  The  eye  of  any  observer  who 
cared  for  such  things  swept  over  the  wave-washed  town, 
and  the  bay  beyond,  and  the  Isle,  with  its  pebble  bank, 
lying  on  the  sea  to  the  left  of  these,  like  a  great  crouching 
animal  tethered  to  the  mainland.  On  the  extreme  east  of 
the  marine  horizon,  St.  Aldhelm's  Head  closed  the  scene, 
the  sea  to  the  southward  of  that  point  glaring  like  a  mirror 
under  the  sun.  Inland  could  be  seen  Badbury  Rings, 
where  a  beacon  had  been  recently  erected ;  and  nearer, 
Rainbarrow,  on  Egdon  Heath,  where  another  stood :  far- 
ther to  the  left  Bulbarrow,  where  there  was  yet  another. 
Not  far  from  this  came  Nettlecombe  Tout ;  to  the  west, 
Dogberry  Hill,  and  Black'on  near  to  the  foreground,  the 
beacon  thereon  being  built  of  furze  faggots  thatched  with 
straw,  and  standing  on  the  spot  where  the  monument 
now  raises  its  head. 

At  nine  o'clock  the  troops  marched  upon  the  ground 
106 


THE   TRUMPET-MAJOR 

— some  from  the  camps  in  the  vicinity,  and  some  from 
quarters  in  the  different  towns  round  about.  The  ap- 
proaches to  the  down  were  blocked  with  carriages  of  all 
descriptions,  ages,  and  colours,  and  with  pedestrians  of 
every  class.  At  ten  the  royal  personages  were  said  to 
be  drawing  near,  and  soon  after  the  King,  accompanied 
by  the  Dukes  of  Cambridge  and  Cumberland,  and  a 
couple  of  generals,  appeared  on  horseback,  wearing  a 
round  hat  turned  up  at  the  side,  with  a  cockade  and 
military  feather.  (Sensation  among  the  crowd.)  Then 
the  Queen  and  three  of  the  princesses  entered  the  field 
in  a  great  coach  drawn  by  six  beautiful  cream-coloured 
horses.  Another  coach,  with  four  horses  of  the  same 
sort,  brought  the  two  remaining  princesses.  (Confused 
acclamations,  *  There's  King  Jarge  !  '  '  That's  Queen 
Sharlett  !  '  *  Princess  'Lizabeth  ! '  *  Princesses  Sophiar 
and  Meelyer  ! '  &c.,  from  the  surrounding  spectators.) 

Anne  and  her  party  were  fortunate  enough  to  secure 
a  position  on  the  top  of  one  of  the  barrows  which  rose 
here  and  there  on  the  down  ;  and  the  miller  having 
gallantly  constructed  a  little  cairn  of  flints,  he  placed  the 
two  women  thereon,  by  which  means  they  were  enabled 
to  see  over  the  heads,  horses,  and  coaches  of  the  multi- 
tudes below  and  around.  At  the  march-past  the  miller's 
eye,  which  had  been  wandering  about  for  the  purpose, 
discovered  his  son  in  his  place  by  the  trumpeters,  who 
had  moved  forwards  in  two  ranks,  and  were  sounding 
the  march. 

'  That's  John ! '  he  cried  to  the  widow.  '  His 
trumpet-sling  is  of  two  colours,  d'ye  see;  and  the 
others  be  plain.' 

Mrs.  Garland  too  saw  him  now,  and  enthusiastically 
admired  him  from  her  hands  upwards,  and  Anne  silently 
did  the  same.  But  before  the  young  woman's  eyes  had 
quite  left  the  trumpet-major  they  fell  upon  the  figure  of 
Yeoman  Festus  riding  with  his  troop,  and  keeping  his 
face  at  a  medium  between  haughtiness  and  mere  bravery. 
107 


THE   TRUMPET-MAJOR 

He  certainly  looked  as  soldierly  as  any  of  his  own  corps, 
and  felt  more  soldierly  than  half-a-dozen,  as  anybody 
could  see  by  observing  him.  Anne  got  behind  the 
miller,  in  case  Festus  should  discover  her,  and,  regard- 
less of  his  monarch,  rush  upon  her  in  a  rage  with,  '  Why 
the  devil  did  you  run  away  from  me  that  night — hey, 
madam  ? '  But  she  resolved  to  think  no  more  of  him 
just  now,  and  to  stick  to  Loveday,  who  was  her  mother's 
friend.  In  this  she  was  helped  by  the  stirring  tones 
which  burst  from  the  latter  gentleman  and  his  subordi- 
nates from  time  to  time. 

'Well,'  said  the  miller  complacently,  'there's  few  of 
more  consequence  in  a  regiment  than  a  trumpeter. 
He's  the  chap  that  tells  'em  what  to  do,  after  all.  Hey, 
Mrs.  Garland  ? ' 

'  So  he  is,  miller,'  said  she. 

'  They  could  no  more  do  without  Jack  and  his  men 
than  they  could  without  generals.' 

'  Indeed  they  could  not,'  said  Mrs.  Garland  again,  in 
a  tone  of  pleasant  agreement  with  any  one  in  Great 
Britain  or  Ireland. 

It  was  said  that  the  line  that  day  was  three  miles 
long,  reaching  from  the  high  ground  on  the  right  of 
where  the  people  stood  to  the  turnpike  road  on  the  left. 
After  the  review  came  a  sham  fight,  during  which  action 
the  crowd  dispersed  more  widely  over  the  downs, 
enabling  Widow  Garland  to  get  still  clearer  glimpses 
of  the  King,  and  his  handsome  charger,  and  the  head 
of  the  Queen,  and  the  elbows  and  shoulders  of  the 
princesses  in  the  carriages,  and  fractional  parts  of 
General  Garth  and  the  Duke  of  Cumberland;  which 
sights  gave  her  great  gratification.  She  tugged  at  her 
daughter  at  every  opportunity,  exclaiming,  '  Now  you 
can  see  his  feather  ! '  '  There's  her  hat ! '  '  There's 
her  Majesty's  India  muslin  shawl ! '  in  a  minor  form  of 
ecstasy,  that  made  the  miller  think  her  more  girlish  and 
animated  than  her  daughter  Anne. 
108 


THE   TRUMPET-MAJOR 

In  those  military  manoeuvres  the  miller  followed  the 
fortunes  of  one  man;  Anne  Garland  of  two.  The 
spectators,  who,  unlike  our  party,  had  no  personal 
interest  in  the  soldiery,  saw  only  troops  and  battalions 
in  the  concrete,  straight  lines  of  red,  straight  lines  of 
blue,  white  lines  formed  of  innumerable  knee-breeches, 
black  lines  formed  of  many  gaiters,  coming  and  going 
in  kaleidoscopic  change.  Who  thought  of  every  point 
in  the  line  as  an  isolated  man,  each  dwelling  all  to 
himself  in  the  hermitage  of  his  own  mind  ?  One  person 
did,  a  young  man  far  removed  from  the  barrow  where 
the  Garlands  and  Miller  Loveday  stood.  The  natural 
expression  of  his  face  was  somewhat  obscured  by  the 
bronzing  effects  of  rough  weather,  but  the  lines  of  his 
mouth  showed  that  affectionate  impulses  were  strong 
within  him — perhaps  stronger  than  judgment  well  could 
regulate.  He  wore  a  blue  jacket  with  little  brass 
buttons,  and  was  plainly  a  seafaring  man. 

Meanwhile,  in  the  part  of  the  plain  where  rose  the 
tumulus  on  which  the  miller  had  established  himself,  a 
broad-brimmed  tradesman  was  elbowing  his  way  along. 
He  saw  Mr.  Loveday  from  the  base  of  the  barrow,  and 
beckoned  to  attract  his  attention.  Loveday  went  half- 
way down,  and  the  other  came  up  as  near  as  he  could. 

'  Miller,'  said  the  man,  '  a  letter  has  been  lying  at 
the  post-office  for  you  for  the  last  three  days.  If  I  had 
known  that  I  should  see  ye  here  I'd  have  brought  it 
along  with  me.' 

The  miller  thanked  him  for  the  news,  and  they 
parted,  Loveday  returning  to  the  summit.  'What  a 
very  strange  thing ! '  he  said  to  Mrs.  Garland,  who  had 
looked  inquiringly  at  his  face,  now  very  grave.  { That 
was  Budmouth  postmaster,  and  he  says  there's  a  letter 
for  me.  Ah,  I  now  call  to  mind  that  there  was  a  letter 
in  the  candle  three  days  ago  this  very  night — a  large 
red  one;  but  foolish-like  I  thought  nothing  o't.  Who 
can  that  letter  be  from  ?  ' 

109 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

A  letter  at  this  time  was  such  an  event  for  hamleteers, 
even  of  the  miller's  respectable  standing,  that  Loveday 
thenceforward  was  thrown  into  a  fit  of  abstraction  which 
prevented  his  seeing  any  more  of  the  sham  fight,  or 
the  people,  or  the  King.  Mrs.  Garland  imbibed  some 
of  his  concern,  and  suggested  that  the  letter  might  come 
from  his  son  Robert. 

'  I  should  naturally  have  thought  that,'  said  Miller 
Loveday ;  « but  he  wrote  to  me  only  two  months  ago, 
and  his  brother  John  heard  from  him  within  the  last 
four  weeks,  when  he  was  just  about  starting  on  another 
voyage.  If  you'll  pardon  me,  Mrs.  Garland,  ma'am,  I'll 
see  if  there's  any  Overcombe  man  here  who  is  going  to 
Budmouth  to-day,  so  that  I  may  get  the  letter  by  night- 
time. I  cannot  possibly  go  myself.' 

So  Mr.  Loveday  left  them  for  awhile;  and  as  they 
were  so  near  home  Mrs.  Garland  did  not  wait  on  the 
barrow  for  him  to  come  back,  but  walked  about  with 
Anne  a  little  time,  until  they  should  be  disposed  to  trot 
down  the  slope  to  their  own  door.  They  listened  to  a 
man  who  was  offering  one  guinea  to  receive  ten  in  case 
Buonaparte  should  be  killed  in  three  months,  and  to 
other  entertainments  of  that  nature,  which  at  this  time 
were  not  rare.  Once  during  their  peregrination  the 
eyes  of  the  sailor  before-mentioned  fell  upon  Anne ;  but 
he  glanced  over  her  and  passed  her  unheedingly  by. 
Loveday  the  elder  was  at  this  time  on  the  other  side  of 
the  line,  looking  for  a  messenger  to  the  town.  At 
twelve  o'clock  the  review  was  over,  and  the  King  and 
his  family  left  the  hill.  The  troops  then  cleared  off  the 
field,  the  spectators  followed,  and  by  one  o'clock  the 
downs  were  again  bare. 

They  still  spread  their  grassy  surface  to  the  sun  as 
on  that  beautiful  morning  not,  historically  speaking,  so 
very  long  ago ;  but  the  King  and  his  fifteen  thousand 
armed  men,  the  horses,  the  bands  of  music,  the 
princesses,  the  cream-coloured  teams — the  gorgeous 
no 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

centre-piece,  in  short,  to  which  the  downs  were  but 
the  mere  mount  or  margin — how  entirely  have  they  all 
passed  and  gone! — lying  scattered  about  the  world 
as  military  and  other  dust,  some  at  Talavera,  Albuera, 
Salamanca,  Vittoria,  Toulouse,  and  Waterloo;  some  in 
home  churchyards ;  and  a  few  small  handfuls  in  royal 
vaults. 

In  the  afternoon  John  Loveday,  lightened  of  his 
trumpet  and  trappings,  appeared  at  the  old  mill-house 
door,  and  beheld  Anne  standing  at  hers. 

'  I  saw  you,  Miss  Garland,'  said  the  soldier  gaily. 

'  Where  was  I  ?  '  said  she,  smiling. 

1  On  the  top  of  the  big  mound — to  the  right  of  the 
King.' 

'  And  I  saw  you ;  lots  of  times,'  she  rejoined. 

Loveday  seemed  pleased.  '  Did  you  really  take  the 
trouble  to  find  me  ?  That  was  very  good  of  you.' 

'  Her  eyes  followed  you  everywhere,'  said  Mrs.  Gar- 
land from  an  upper  window. 

'  Of  course  I  looked  at  the  dragoons  most,'  said 
Anne,  disconcerted.  '  And  when  I  looked  at  them  my 
eyes  naturally  fell  upon  the  trumpets.  I  looked  at  the 
dragoons  generally,  no  more.' 

She  did  not  mean  to  show  any  vexation  to  the 
trumpet-major,  but  he  fancied  otherwise,  and  stood 
repressed.  The  situation  was  relieved  by  the  arrival  of 
the  miller,  still  looking  serious. 

'  I  am  very  much  concerned,  John ;  I  did  not  go 
to  the  review  for  nothing.  There's  a  letter  a-waiting 
for  me  at  Budmouth,  and  I  must  get  it  before  bedtime, 
or  I  shan't  sleep  a  wink.' 

*  I'll  go,  of  course,'  said  John ;  « and  perhaps 
Miss  Garland  would  like  to  see  what's  doing  there 
to-day  ?  Everybody  is  gone  or  going ;  the  road  is  like 
a  fair.' 

He  spoke  pleadingly,  but  Anne  was  not  won  to 
assent. 

in 


THE   TRUMPET-MAJOR 

*  You  can  drive  in  the  gig ;  'twill  do  Blossom  good,' 
said  the  miller. 

*  Let  David  drive  Miss  Garland,'  said  the  trumpet- 
major,  not  wishing  to  coerce  her;  *  I  would  just  as  soon 
walk.' 

Anne  joyfully  welcomed  this  arrangement,  and  a  time 
was  fixed  for  the  start. 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 


THE  CONVERSATION 

IN  THE  CROWD 

XIII 

IN  the  afternoon  they  drove  off,  John  Loveday  being 
nowhere  visible.  All  along  the  road  they  passed  and 
were  overtaken  by  vehicles  of  all  descriptions  going  in 
the  same  direction;  among  them  the  extraordinary 
machines  which  had  been  invented  for  the  conveyance 
of  troops  to  any  point  of  the  coast  on  which  the  enemy 
should  land;  they  consisted  of  four  boards  placed 
across  a  sort  of  trolly,  thirty  men  of  the  volunteer 
companies  riding  on  each. 

The  popular  Georgian  watering-place  was  in  a  par- 
oxysm of  gaiety.  The  town  was  quite  overpowered  by 
the  country  round,  much  to  the  town's  delight  and  profit. 
The  fear  of  invasion  was  such  that  six  frigates  lay  in 
the  roads  to  ensure  the  safety  of  the  royal  family, 
and  from  the  regiments  of  horse  and  foot  quartered  at 
the  barracks,  or  encamped  on  the  hills  round  about, 
a  picket  of  a  thousand  men  mounted  guard  every  day 
in  front  of  Gloucester  Lodge,  where  the  King  resided. 
When  Anne  and  her  attendant  reached  this  point, 
which  they  did  on  foot,  stabling  the  horse  on  the  out- 
skirts of  the  town,  it  was  about  six  o'clock.  The 
King  was  on  the  Esplanade,  and  the  soldiers  were  just 
113  n 


THE   TRUMPET-MAJOR 

marching  past  to  mount  guard.  The  band  formed  in 
front  of  the  King,  and  all  the  officers  saluted  as  they 
went  by. 

Anne  now  felt  herself  close  to  and  looking  into  the 
stream  of  recorded  history,  within  whose  banks  the  littlest 
things  are  great,  and  outside  which  she  and  the  general 
bulk  of  the  human  race  were  content  to  live  on  as  an 
unreckoned,  unheeded  superfluity. 

When  she  turned  from  her  interested  gaze  at  this 
scene,  there  stood  John  Loveday.  She  had  had  a  pre- 
sentiment that  he  would  turn  up  in  this  mysterious 
way.  It  was  marvellous  that  he  could  have  got  there 
so  quickly;  but  there  he  was — not  looking  at  the 
King,  or  at  the  crowd,  but  waiting  for  the  turn  of 
her  head. 

'  Trumpet-major,  I  didn't  see  you/  said  Anne  de- 
murely. '  How  is  it  that  your  regiment  is  not  marching 
past  ?  ' 

*  We  take  it  by  turns,  and  it  is  not  our  turn,'  said 
Loveday. 

She  wanted  to  know  then  if  they  were  afraid  that 
the  King  would  be  carried  off  by  the  First  Consul. 
Yes,  Loveday  told  her ;  and  his  Majesty  was  rather  ven- 
turesome. A  day  or  two  before  he  had  gone  so  far 
to  sea  that  he  was  nearly  caught  by  some  of  the  enemy's 
cruisers.  *  He  is  anxious  to  fight  Boney  single-handed,' 
he  said. 

'  What  a  good,  brave  King  ! '  said  Anne. 

Loveday  seemed  anxious  to  come  to  more  personal 
matters.  *  Will  you  let  me  take  you  round  to  the  other 
side,  where  you  can  see  better  ?  '  he  asked.  '  The  Queen 
and  the  princesses  are  at  the  window.' 

Anne  passively  assented.  *  David,  wait  here  for  me,' 
she  said ;  *  I  shall  be  back  again  in  a  few  minutes.' 

The  trumpet-major  then  led  her  off  triumphantly,  and 
they  skirted  the  crowd  and  came  round  on  the  side  to- 
wards the  sands.  He  told  her  everything  he  could  think 
114 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

of,  military  and  civil,  to  which  Anne  returned  pretty 
syllables  and  parenthetic  words  about  the  colour  of  the 
sea  and  the  curl  of  the  foam — a  way  of  speaking  that 
moved  the  soldier's  heart  even  more  than  long  and  direct 
speeches  would  have  done. 

4  And  that  other  thing  I  asked  you  ?  '  he  ventured  to 
say  at  last. 

« We  won't  speak  of  it.' 

'  You  don't  dislike  me  ?  ' 

'  O  no ! '  she  said,  gazing  at  the  bathing-machines, 
digging  children,  and  other  common  objects  of  the  sea- 
shore, as  if  her  interest  lay  there  rather  than  with  him. 

'  But  I  am  not  worthy  of  the  daughter  of  a  genteel 
professional  man — that's  what  you  mean  ? ' 

4  There's  something  more  than  worthiness  required  in 
such  cases,  you  know,'  she  said,  still  without  calling  her 
mind  away  from  surrounding  scenes.  '  Ah,  there  are  the 
Queen  and  princesses  at  the  window  ! ' 

'  Something  more  ?  ' 

'Well,  since  you  will  make  me  speak,  I  mean  the 
woman  ought  to  love  the  man.' 

The  trumpet-major  seemed  to  be  less  concerned  about 
this  than  about  her  supposed  superiority.  '  If  it  were 
all  right  on  that  point,  would  you  mind  the  other  ?  '  he 
asked,  like  a  man  who  knows  he  is  too  persistent,  yet  who 
cannot  be  still. 

'  How  can  I  say,  when  I  'don't  know  ?  What  a  pretty 
chip  hat  the  elder  princess  wears  ! ' 

Her  companion's  general  disappointment  extended 
over  him  almost  to  his  lace  and  his  plume.  *  Your 
mother  said,  you  know,  Miss  Anne — 

'  Yes,  that's  the  worst  of  it,'  she  said.  '  Let  us  go 
back  to  David;  I  have  seen  all  I  want  to  see,  Mr. 
Loveday.' 

The  mass  of  the  people  had  by  this  time  noticed  the 
Queen  and  princesses  at  the  window,  and  raised  a  cheer, 
to  which  the  ladies  waved  their  embroidered  handker- 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

chiefs.  Anne  went  back  towards  the  pavement  with  her 
trumpet-major,  whom  all  the  girls  envied  her,  so  fine- 
looking  a  soldier  was  he;  and  not  only  for  that,  but 
because  it  was  well  known  that  he  was  not  a  soldier 
from  necessity,  but  from  patriotism,  his  father  having 
repeatedly  offered  to  set  him  up  in  business  :  his  artistic 
taste  in  preferring  a  horse  and  uniform  to  a  dirty, 
rumbling  flour-mill  was  admired  by  all.  She,  too,  had  a 
very  nice  appearance  in  her  best  clothes  as  she  walked 
along — the  sarcenet  hat,  muslin  shawl,  and  tight-sleeved 
gown  being  of  the  newest  Overcombe  fashion,  that  was 
only  about  a  year  old  in  the  adjoining  town,  and  in 
London  three  or  four.  She  could  not  be  harsh  to 
Loveday  and  dismiss  him  curtly,  for  his  musical  pursuits 
had  refined  him,  educated  him,  and  made  him  quite 
poetical.  To-day  he  had  been  particularly  well-mannered 
and  tender ;  so,  instead  of  answering,  '  Never  speak  to 
me  like  this  again,'  she  merely  put  him  off  with  a  '  Let 
us  go  back  to  David.' 

When  they  reached  the  place  where  they  had  left  him 
David  was  gone. 

Anne  was  now  positively  vexed.  '  What  shall  I  do  ? ' 
she  said. 

'  He's  only  gone  to  drink  the  King's  health,'  said 
Loveday,  who  had  privately  given  David  the  money  for 
performing  that  operation.  *  Depend  upon  it,  he'll  be 
back  soon.' 

'  Will  you  go  and  find  him  ? '  said  she,  with  intense 
propriety  in  her  looks  and  tone. 

'  I  will/  said  Loveday  reluctantly ;  and  he  went. 

Anne  stood  still.  She  could  now  escape  her  gal- 
lant friend,  for,  although  the  distance  was  long,  it  was 
not  impossible  to  walk  home.  On  the  other  hand, 
Loveday  was  a  good  and  sincere  fellow,  for  whom  she 
had  almost  a  brotherly  feeling,  and  she  shrank  from 
such  a  trick.  While  she  stood  and  mused,  scarcely 
heeding  the  music,  the  marching  of  the  soldiers,  the 
116 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

King,  the  dukes,  the  brilliant  staff,  the  attendants,  and 
the  happy  groups  of  people,  her  eyes  fell  upon  the 
ground. 

Before  her  she  saw  a  flower  lying — a  crimson  sweet- 
william — fresh  and  uninjured.  An  instinctive  wish  to 
save  it  from  destruction  by  the  passengers'  feet  led  her  to 
pick  it  up ;  and  then,  moved  by  a  sudden  self-conscious- 
ness, she  looked  around.  She  was  standing  before  an 
inn,  and  from  an  upper  window  Festus  Derriman  was 
leaning  with  two  or  three  kindred  spirits  of  his  cut  and 
kind.  He  nodded  eagerly,  and  signified  to  her  that  he 
had  thrown  the  flower. 

What  should  she  do?  To  throw  it  away  would 
seem  stupid,  and  to  keep  it  was  awkward.  She  held  it 
between  her  finger  and  thumb,  twirled  it  round  on  its 
axis  and  twirled  it  back  again,  regarding  and  yet  not 
examining  it.  Just  then  she  saw  the  trumpet-major 
coming  back. 

' 1  can't  find  David  anywhere,'  he  said ;  and  his  heart 
was  not  sorry  as  he  said  it. 

Anne  was  still  holding  out  the  sweet-william  as  if 
about  to  drop  it,  and,  scarcely  knowing  what  she  did 
under  the  distressing  sense  that  she  was  watched,  she 
offered  the  flower  to  Loveday. 

His  face  brightened  with  pleasure  as  he  took  it. 
*  Thank  you,  indeed,'  he  said. 

Then  Anne  saw  what  a  misleading  blunder  she  had 
committed  towards  Loveday  in  playing  to  the  yeoman. 
Perhaps  she  had  sown  the  seeds  of  a  quarrel. 

'It  was  not  my  sweet-william,'  she  said  hastily;  'it 
was  lying  on  the  ground.  I  don't  mean  anything  by 
giving  it  to  you.' 

'But  I'll  keep  it  all  the  same,'  said  the  innocent 
soldier,  as  if  he  knew  a  good  deal  about  womankind ; 
and  he  put  the  flower  carefully  inside  his  jacket,  between 
his  white  waistcoat  and  his  heart. 

Festus,  seeing  this,  enlarged  himself  wrathfully,  got 
117 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

hot  in  the  face,  rose  to  his  feet,  and  glared  down  upon 
them  like  a  turnip-lantern. 

'  Let  us  go  away,'  said  Anne  timorously. 

'  I'll  see  you  safe  to  your  own  door,  depend  upon 
me,'  said  Loveday.  '  But — I  had  near  forgot — there's 
father's  letter,  that  he's  so  anxiously  waiting  for !  Will 
you  come  with  me  to  the  post-office  ?  Then  I'll  take 
you  straight  home.' 

Anne,  expecting  Festus  to  pounce  down  every  minute, 
was  glad  to  be  off  anywhere ;  so  she  accepted  the  sug- 
gestion, and  they  went  along  the  parade  together. 

Loveday  set  this  down  as  a  proof  of  Anne's  relenting. 
Thus  in  joyful  spirits  he  entered  the  office,  paid  the 
postage,  and  received  the  letter. 

'  It  is  from  Bob,  after  all ! '  he  said.  '  Father  told 
me  to  read  it  at  once,  in  case  of  bad  news.  Ask  your 
pardon  for  keeping  you  a  moment.'  He  broke  the  seal 
and  read,  Anne  standing  silently  by. 

'  He  is  coming  home  to  be  married]  said  the  trumpet- 
major,  without  looking  up. 

Anne  did  not  answer.  The  blood  swept  impetuously 
up  her  face  at  his  words,  and  as  suddenly  went  away 
again,  leaving  her  rather  paler  than  before.  She  dis- 
guised her  agitation  and  then  overcame  it,  Loveday 
observing  nothing  of  this  emotional  performance. 

*  As  far  as  I  can  understand  he  will  be  here  Saturday,' 
he  said. 

*  Indeed  ! '  said  Anne  quite  calmly.     <  And  who  is  he 
going  to  marry  ?  ' 

'  That  I  don't  know,'  said  John,  turning  the  letter 
about.  '  The  woman  is  a  stranger.' 

At  this  moment  the  miller  entered  the  office  hastily. 

'  Come,  John,'  he  cried,  '  I  have  been  waiting  and 
waiting  for  that  there  letter  till  I  was  nigh  crazy ! ' 

John  briefly  explained  the  news,  and  when  his  father 
had  recovered  from  his  astonishment,  taken  off  his  hat, 
and  wiped  the  exact  line  where  his  forehead  joined 
118 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

his  hair,  he  walked  with  Anne  up  the  street,  leaving 
John  to  return  alone.  The  miller  was  so  absorbed 
in  his  mental  perspective  of  Bob's  marriage,  that  he 
saw  nothing  of  the  gaieties  they  passed  through;  and 
Anne  seemed  also  so  much  impressed  by  the  same 
intelligence,  that  she  crossed  before  the  inn  occupied  by 
Festus  without  showing  a  recollection  of  his  presence 
there. 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 


LATER  IN  THE  EVENING 

OF  THE  SAME  DAY 

XIV 

WHEN  they  reached  home  the  sun  was  going  down. 
It  had  already  been  noised  abroad  that  miller  Loveday 
had  received  a  letter,  and,  his  cart  having  been  heard 
coming  up  the  lane,  the  population  of  Overcombe  drew 
down  towards  the  mill  as  soon  as  he  had  gone  indoors 
— a  sudden  flash  of  brightness  from  the  window  show- 
ing that  he  had  struck  such  an  early  light  as  nothing 
but  the  immediate  deciphering  of  literature  could  re- 
quire. Letters  were  matters  of  public  moment,  and 
everybody  in  the  parish  had  an  interest  in  the  reading 
of  those  rare  documents  ;  so  that  when  the  miller  had 
placed  the  candle,  slanted  himself,  and  called  in  Mrs. 
Garland  to  have  her  opinion  on  the  meaning  of  any 
hieroglyphics  that  he  might  encounter  in  his  course,  he 
found  that  he  was  to  be  additionally  assisted  by  the 
opinions  of  the  other  neighbours,  whose  persons  ap- 
peared in  the  doorway,  partly  covering  each  other  like 
a  hand  of  cards,  yet  each  showing  a  large  enough  piece 
of  himself  for  identification.  To  pass  the  time  while 
they  were  arranging  themselves,  the  miller  adopted  his 
usual  way  of  filling  up  casual  intervals,  that  of  snuffing 
the  candle. 

I2O 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

'  We  heard  you  had  got  a  letter,  Maister  Loveday,' 
they  said. 

'  Yes ;  "  Southampton,  the  twelfth  of  August,  dear 
father," '  said  Loveday ;  and  they  were  as  silent  as 
relations  at  the  reading  of  a  will.  Anne,  for  whom 
the  letter  had  a  singular  fascination,  came  in  with  her 
mother  and  sat  down. 

Bob  stated  in  his  own  way  that  having,  since  landing, 
taken  into  consideration  his  father's  wish  that  he  should 
renounce  a  seafaring  life  and  become  a  partner  in  the 
mill,  he  had  decided  to  agree  to  the  proposal ;  and 
with  that  object  in  view  he  would  return  to  Overcombe 
in  three  days  from  the  time  of  writing. 

He  then  said  incidentally  that  since  his  voyage  he 
had  been  in  lodgings  at  Southampton,  and  during  that 
time  had  become  acquainted  with  a  lovely  and  virtuous 
young  maiden,  in  whom  he  found  the  exact  qualities 
necessary  to  his  happiness.  Having  known  this  lady 
for  the  full  space  of  a  fortnight  he  had  had  ample  oppor- 
tunities of  studying  her  character,  and,  being  struck 
with  the  recollection  that,  if  there  was  one  thing  more 
than  another  necessary  in  a  mill  which  had  no  mistress, 
it  was  somebody  who  could  play  that  part  with  grace  and 
dignity,  he  had  asked  Miss  Matilda  Johnson  to  be  his 
wife.  In  her  kindness  she,  though  sacrificing  far  better 
prospects,  had  agreed ;  and  he  could  not  but  regard 
it  as  a  happy  chance  that  he  should  have  found  at  the 
nick  of  time  such  a  woman  to  adorn  his  home,  whose 
innocence  was  as  stunning  as  her  beauty.  Without 
much  ado,  therefore,  he  and  she  had  arranged  to  be 
married  at  once,  and  at  Overcombe,  that  his  father 
might  not  be  deprived  of  the  pleasures  of  the  wedding 
feast.  She  had  kindly  consented  to  follow  him  by  land 
in  the  course  of  a  few  days,  and  to  live  in  the  house  as 
their  guest  for  the  week  or  so  previous  to  the  ceremony. 

'  'Tis  a  proper  good  letter,'  said  Mrs.  Comfort  from 
the  background.  '  I  never  heerd  true  love  better  put 

121 


THE   TRUMPET-MAJOR 

out  of  hand  in  my  life ;  and  they  seem  'nation  fond  of 
one  another.' 

'  He  haven't  knowed  her  such  a  very  long  time,'  said 
Job  Mitchell  dubiously. 

'That's  nothing,'  said  Esther  Beach.  "Nater  will 
find  her  way  very  rapid  when  the  time's  come  for't. 
Well,  'tis  good  news  for  ye,  miller.' 

'Yes,  sure,  I  hope  'tis,'  said  Loveday,  without,  how- 
ever, showing  any  great  hurry  to  burst  into  the  frantic 
form  of  fatherly  joy  which  the  event  should  naturally 
have  produced,  seeming  more  disposed  to  let  off  his 
feelings  by  examining  thoroughly  into  the  fibres  of  the 
letter-paper. 

1 1  was  five  years  a-courting  my  wife,'  he  presently 
remarked.  '  But  folks  were  slower  about  everything  in 
them  days.  Well,  since  she's  coming  we  must  make 
her  welcome.  Did  any  of  ye  catch  by  my  reading  which 
day  it  is  he  means  ?  What  with  making  out  the  pen- 
manship, my  mind  was  drawn  off  from  the  sense  here 
and  there.' 

f  He  says  in  three  days,'  said  Mrs.  Garland.  '  The 
date  of  the  letter  will  fix  it.' 

On  examination  it  was  found  that  the  day  appointed 
was  the  one  nearly  expired ;  at  which  the  miller  jumped 
up  and  said,  « Then  he'll  be  here  before  bedtime.  I 
didn't  gather  till  now  that  he  was  coming  afore  Saturday. 
Why,  he  may  drop  in  this  very  minute ! ' 

He  had  scarcely  spoken  when  footsteps  were  heard 
coming  along  the  front,  and  they  presently  halted  at  the 
door.  Loveday  pushed  through  the  neighbours  and 
rushed  out;  and,  seeing  in  the  passage  a  form  which 
obscured  the  declining  light,  the  miller  seized  hold  of 
him,  saying,  '  O  my  dear  Bob ;  then  you  are  come ! ' 

'  Scrounch  it  all,  miller,  don't  quite  pull  my  poor 
shoulder  out  of  joint !  Whatever  is  the  matter  ? '  said 
the  new-comer,  trying  to  release  himself  from  Loveday's 
grasp  of  affection.  It  was  Uncle  Benjy. 

122 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

*  Thought  'twas  my  son  ! '  faltered  the  miller,  sinking 
back  upon  the  toes  of  the  neighbours  who  had  closely 
followed    him    into    the    entry.     '  Well,   come    in,    Mr. 
Derriman,  and  make  yerself  at  home.    Why,  you  haven't 
been  here  for  years  !    Whatever  has  made  you  come  now, 
sir,  of  all  times  in  the  world  ?  ' 

'  Is  he  in  there  with  ye? '  whispered  the  farmer  with 
misgiving. 

'  Who  ? ' 

'My  nephew;  after  that  maid  that  he's  so  mighty 
smit  with  ? ' 

'O  no;  he  never  .calls  here.' 

Farmer  Derriman  breathed  a  breath  of  relief.  '  Well, 
I've  called  to  tell  ye,'  he  said,  '  that  there's  more  news 
of  the  French.  We  shall  have  'em  here  this  month  as 
sure  as  a  gun.  The  gunboats  be  all  ready — near  two 
thousand  of  'em — and  the  whole  army  is  at  Boulogne. 
And,  miller,  I  know  ye  to  be  an  honest  man.' 

Loveday  did  not  say  nay. 

*  Neighbour  Loveday,  I  know  ye  to  be  an  honest  man,' 
repeated  the  old  squireen.     *  Can  I  speak  to  ye  alone  ? ' 

As  the  house  was  full,  Loveday  took  him  into  the 
garden,  all  the  while  upon  tenter-hooks,  not  lest  Buona- 
parte should  appear  in  their  midst,  but  lest  Bob  should 
come  whilst  he  was  not  there  to  receive  him.  When 
they  had  got  into  a  corner  Uncle  Benjy  said,  '  Miller, 
what  with  the  French,  and  what  with  my  nephew  Festus, 
I  assure  ye  my  life  is  nothing  but  wherrit  from  morning 
to  night.  Miller  Loveday,  you  are  an  honest  man.' 

Loveday  nodded. 

« Well,  I've  come  to  ask  a  favour — to  ask  if  you  will 
take  charge  of  my  few  poor  title-deeds  and  documents 
and  suchlike,  while  I  am  away  from  home  next  week, 
lest  anything  should  befall  me,  and  they  should  be  stole 
away  by  Boney  or  Festus,  and  I  should  have  nothing 
left  in  the  wide  world  ?  I  can  trust  neither  banks  nor 
lawyers  in  these  terrible  times ;  and  I  am  come  to  you.' 
123 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

Loveday  after  some  hesitation  agreed  to  take  care  of 
anything  that  Derriman  should  bring,  whereupon  the 
farmer  said  he  would  call  with  the  parchments  and 
papers  alluded  to  in  the  course  of  a  week.  Derriman 
then  went  away  by  the  garden  gate,  mounted  his  pony, 
which  had  been  tethered  outside,  and  rode  on  till  his 
form  was  lost  in  the  shades. 

The  miller  rejoined  his  friends,  and  found  that  in 
the  meantime  John  had  arrived.  John  informed  the 
company  that  after  parting  from  his  father  and  Anne 
he  had  rambled  to  the  harbour,  and  discovered  the 
Pewit  by  the  quay.  On  inquiry  he  had  learnt  that  she 
came  in  at  eleven  o'clock,  and  that  Bob  had  gone 
ashore. 

'  We'll  go  and  meet  him,'  said  the  miller.  « Tis 
still  light  out  of  doors.' 

So,  as  the  dew  rose  from  the  meads  and  formed 
fleeces  in  the  hollows,  Loveday  and  his  friends  and 
neighbours  strolled  out,  and  loitered  by  the  stiles  which 
hampered  the  footpath  from  Overcombe  to  the  high- 
road at  intervals  of  a  hundred  yards.  John  Loveday, 
being  obliged  to  return  to  camp,  was  unable  to  accom- 
pany them,  but  Widow  Garland  thought  proper  to  fall 
in  with  the  procession.  When  she  had  put  on  her 
bonnet  she  called  to  her  daughter.  Anne  said  from 
upstairs  that  she  was  coming  in  a  minute;  and  her 
mother  walked  on  without  her. 

What  was  Anne  doing  ?  Having  hastily  unlocked  a 
receptacle  for  emotional  objects  of  small  size,  she  took 
thence  the  little  folded  paper  with  which  we  have 
already  become  acquainted,  and,  striking  a  light  from 
her  private  tinder-box,  she  held  the  paper,  and  curl  of 
hair  it  contained,  in  the  candle  till  they  were  burnt. 
Then  she  put  on  her  hat  and  followed  her  mother  and 
the  rest  of  them  across  the  moist  grey  fields,  cheerfully 
singing  in  an  undertone  as  she  went,  to  assure  herself 
of  her  indifference  to  circumstances. 
124 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 


*  CAPTAIN*  BOB  LOVED  AY 
OF  THE  MERCHANT  SERVICE 

XV 

WHILE  Loveday  and  his  neighbours  were  thus 
rambling  forth,  full  of  expectancy,  some  of  them,  in- 
cluding Anne  in  the  rear,  heard  the  crackling  of  light 
wheels  along  the  curved  lane  to  which  the  path  was  the 
chord.  At  once  Anne  thought,  '  Perhaps  that's  he,  and 
we  are  missing  him.'  But  recent  events  were  not  of 
a  kind  to  induce  her  to  say  anything ;  and  the  others  of 
the  company  did  not  reflect  on  the  sound. 

Had  they  gone  across  to  the  hedge  which  hid  the 
lane,  and  looked  through  it,  they  would  have  seen  a 
light  cart  driven  by  a  boy,  beside  whom  was  seated  a 
seafaring  man,  apparently  of  good  standing  in  the 
merchant  service,  with  '  his  feet  outside  on  the  shaft. 
The  vehicle  went  over  the  main  bridge,  turned  in  upon 
the  other  bridge  at  the  tail  of  the  mill,  and  halted  by 
the  door.  The  sailor  alighted,  showing  himself  to  be  a 
well-shaped,  active,  and  fine  young  man,  with  a  bright 
eye,  an  anonymous  nose,  and  of  such  a  rich  complexion 
by  exposure  to  ripening  suns  that  he  might  have  been 
some  connexion  of  the  foreigner  who  calls  his  likeness 
the  Portrait  of  a  Gentleman  in  galleries  of  the  Old 
Masters.  Yet  in  spite  of  this,  and  though  Bob  Love- 
125 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

day  had  been  all  over  the  world  from  Cape  Horn  to 
Pekin,  and  from  India's  coral  strand  to  the  White  Sea, 
the  most  conspicuous  of  all  the  marks  that  he  had 
brought  back  with  him  was  an  increased  resemblance 
to  his  mother,  who  had  lain  all  the  time  beneath  Over- 
combe  church  wall. 

Captain  Loveday  tried  the  house  door;  finding  this 
locked  he  went  to  the  mill  door  :  this  was  locked  also, 
the  mill  being  stopped  for  the  night. 

'  They  are  not  at  home,'  he  said  to  the  boy.  *  But 
never  mind  that.  Just  help  to  unload  the  things  ;  and 
then  I'll  pay  you,  and  you  can  drive  off  home.' 

The  cart  was  unloaded,  and  the  boy  was  dismissed, 
thanking  the  sailor  profusely  for  the  payment  rendered. 
Then  Bob  Loveday,  finding  that  he  had  still  some  leisure 
on  his  hands,  looked  musingly  east,  west,  north,  south, 
and  nadir ;  after  which  he  bestirred  himself  by  carrying 
his  goods,  article  by  article,  round  to  the  back  door, 
out  of  the  way  of  casual  passers.  This  done,  he  walked 
round  the  mill  in  a  more  regardful  attitude,  and  sur- 
veyed its  familiar  features  one  by  one — the  panes  of  the 
grinding-room,  now  as  heretofore  clouded  with  flour  as 
with  stale  hoar-frost ;  the  meal  lodged  in  the  corners 
of  the  window-sills,  forming  a  soil  in  which  lichens  grew 
without  ever  getting  any  bigger,  as  they  had  done  since 
his  smallest  infancy ;  the  mosses  on  the  plinth  towards 
the  river,  reaching  as  high  as  the  capillary  power  of  the 
walls  would  fetch  up  moisture  for  their  nourishment, 
and  the  penned  mill-pond,  now  as  ever  on  the  point 
of  overflowing  into  the  garden.  Everything  was  the 
same. 

When  he  had  had  enough  of  this  it  occurred  to 
Loveday  that  he  might  get  into  the  house  in  spite  of 
the  locked  doors ;  and  by  entering  the  garden,  placing 
a  pole  from  the  fork  of  an  apple-tree  to  the  window-sill 
of  a  bedroom  on  that  side,  and  climbing  across  like  a 
Barbary  ape,  he  entered  the  window  and  stepped  down 
126 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

inside.  There  was  something  anomalous  in  being  close 
to  the  familiar  furniture  without  having  first  seen  his 
father,  and  its  silent,  impassive  shine  was  not  cheering ; 
it  was  as  if  his  relations  were  all  dead,  and  only  their 
tables  and  chests  of  drawers  left  to  greet  him.  He 
went  downstairs  and  seated  himself  in  the  dark  parlour. 
Finding  this  place,  too,  rather  solitary,  and  the  tick  of 
the  invisible  clock  preternaturally  loud,  he  unearthed 
the  tinder-box,  obtained  a  light,  and  set  about  making 
the  house  comfortable  for  his  father's  return,  divining 
that  the  miller  had  gone  out  to  meet  him  by  the  wrong 
road. 

Robert's  interest  in  this  work  increased  as  he  pro- 
ceeded, and  he  bustled  round  and  round  the  kitchen  as 
lightly  as  a  girl.  David,  the  indoor  factotum,  having  lost 
himself  among  the  quart  pots  of  Budmouth,  there  had 
been  nobody  left  here  to  prepare  supper,  and  Bob  had 
it  all  to  himself.  In  a  short  time  a  fire  blazed  up  the 
chimney,  a  tablecloth  was  found,  the  plates  were  clapped 
down,  and  a  search  made  for  what  provisions  the  house 
afforded,  which,  in  addition  to  various  meats,  included 
some  fresh  eggs  of  the  elongated  shape  that  produces 
cockerels  when  hatched,  and  had  been  set  aside  on  that 
account  for  putting  under  the  next  broody  hen. 

A  more  reckless  cracking  of  eggs  than  that  which  now 
went  on  had  never  been  known  in  Overcombe  since  the 
last  large  christening ;  and  as  Loveday  gashed  one  on 
the  side,  another  at  the  end,  another  longways,  and  an- 
other diagonally,  he  acquired  adroitness  by  practice,  and 
at  last  made  every  son  of  a  hen  of  them  fall  into  two 
hemispheres  as  neatly  as  if  it  opened  by  a  hinge.  From 
eggs  he  proceeded  to  ham,  and  from  ham  to  kidneys,  the 
result  being  a  brilliant  fry. 

Not  to  be  tempted  to  fall  to  before  his  father  came 

back,  the  returned  navigator  emptied  the  whole  into  a 

dish,  laid  a  plate  over  the  top,  his  coat  over  the  plate, 

and  his  hat  over  his  coat.     Thus  completely  stopping 

127 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

in  the  appetizing  smell,  he  sat  down  to  await  events. 
He  was  relieved  from  the  tediousness  of  doing  this  by 
hearing  voices  outside ;  and  in  a  minute  his  father 
entered. 

'  Glad  to  welcome  ye  home,  father,'  said  Bob.  'And 
supper  is  just  ready.' 

'  Lard,  lard — why,  Captain  Bob's  here !  '  said  Mrs. 
Garland. 

'  And  we've  been  out  waiting  to  meet  thee ! '  said  the 
miller,  as  he  entered  the  room,  followed  by  represen- 
tatives of  the  houses  of  Cripplestraw,  Comfort,  Mitchell, 
Beach,  and  Snooks,  together  with  some  small  beginnings 
of  Fencible  Tremlett's  posterity.  In  the  rear  came 
David,  and  quite  in  the  vanishing-point  of  the  com- 
position, Anne  the  fair. 

'  I  drove  over ;  and  so  was  forced  to  come  by  the 
road,'  said  Bob. 

1  And  we  went  across  the  fields,  thinking  you'd  walk,' 
said  his  father. 

'  I  should  have  been  here  this  morning ;  but  not  so 
much  as  a  wheelbarrow  could  I  get  for  my  traps  ;  every- 
thing was  gone  to  the  review.  So  I  went  too,  thinking 
I  might  meet  you  there.  I  was  then  obliged  to  return  to 
the  harbour  for  the  luggage.' 

Then  there  was  a  welcoming  of  Captain  Bob  by  pull- 
ing out  his  arms  like  drawers  and  shutting  them  again, 
smacking  him  on  the  back  as  if  he  were  choking,  holding 
him  at  arm's  length  as  if  he  were  of  too  large  type  to 
read  close.  All  which  persecution  Bob  bore  with  a  wide, 
genial  smile  that  was  shaken  into  fragments  and  scattered 
promiscuously  among  the  spectators. 

'  Get  a  chair  for  'n ! '  said  the  miller  to  David,  whom 
they  had  met  in  the  fields  and  found  to  have  got  nothing 
worse  by  his  absence  than  a  slight  slant  in  his  walk. 

'  Never  mind — I  am  not  tired — I  have  been  here 
ever  so  long,'  said  Bob.  '  And  I — '  But  the  chair 
having  been  placed  behind  him,  and  a  smart  touch  in 
128 


THE   TRUMPET-MAJOR 

the  hollow  of  a  person's  knee  by  the  edge  of  that  piece 
of  furniture  having  a  tendency  to  make  the  person  sit 
without  further  argument,  Bob  sank  down  dumb,  and 
the  others  drew  up  other  chairs  at  a  convenient  nearness 
for  easy  analytic  vision  and  the  subtler  forms  of  good 
fellowship.  The  miller  went  about  saying,  '  David,  the 
nine  best  glasses  from  the  corner  cupboard  ! ' — '  David, 
the  corkscrew  ! ' — '  David,  whisk  the  tail  of  thy  smock- 
frock  round  the  inside  of  these  quart  pots  afore  you  draw 
drink  in  'em — they  be  an  inch  thick  in  dust ! '— '  David, 
lower  that  chimney-crook  a  couple  of  notches  that  the 
flame  may  touch  the  bottom  of  the  kettle,  and  light 
three  more  of  the  largest  candles  ! ' — *  If  you  can't  get 
the  cork  out  of  the  jar,  David,  bore  a  hole  in  the  tub  of 
Hollands  that's  buried  under  the  scroff  in  the  fuel-house ; 
d'ye  hear? — Dan  Brown  left  en  there  yesterday  as  a 
return  for  the  little  porker  I  gied  en.' 

When  they  had  all  had  a  thimbleful  round,  and  the 
superfluous  neighbours  had  reluctantly  departed,  one  by 
one,  the  inmates  gave  their  minds  to  the  supper,  which 
David  had  begun  to  serve  up. 

*  What  be  you  rolling  back  the  tablecloth  for,  David  ? ' 
said  the  miller. 

*  Maister  Bob  have  put  down  one  of  the  under  sheets 
by  mistake,  and  I  thought  you  might  not  like  it,  sir,  as 
there's  ladies  present ! ' 

{  Faith,  'twas  the  first  thing  that  came  to  hand,'  said 
Robert.  '  It  seemed  a  tablecloth  to  me.' 

'  Never  mind — don't  pull  off  the  things  now  he's 
laid  'em  down — let  it  bide,'  said  the  miller.  *  But 
where's  Widow  Garland  and  Maidy  Anne  ? ' 

'They  were  here  but  a  minute  ago,'  said  David. 
'  Depend  upon  it  they  have  slinked  off  'cause  they  be  shy.' 

The  miller  at  once  went  round  to  ask  them  to  come 
back  and  sup  with  him ;  and  while  he  was  gone  David 
told  Bob  in  confidence  what  an  excellent  place  he  had 
for  an  old  man. 

129  I 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

'  Yes,  Cap'n  Bob,  as  I  suppose  I  must  call  ye ;  I've 
worked  for  yer  father  these  eight-and-thirty  years,  and 
we  have  always  got  on  very  well  together.  Trusts  me 
with  all  the  keys,  lends  me  his  sleeve-waistcoat,  and 
leaves  the  house  entirely  to  me.  Widow  Garland  next 
door,  too,  is  just  the  same  with  me,  and  treats  me  as  if 
I  was  her  own  child.' 

1  She  must  have  married  young  to  make  you  that, 
David.' 

'  Yes,  yes — I'm  years  older  than  she.  'Tis  only  my 
common  way  of  speaking.' 

Mrs.  Garland  would  not  come  in  to  supper,  and  the 
meal  proceeded  without  her,  Bob  recommending  to  his 
father  the  dish  he  had  cooked,  in  the  manner  of  a  house- 
holder to  a  stranger  just  come.  The  miller  was  anxious 
to  know  more  about  his  son's  plans  for  the  future,  but 
would  not  for  the  present  interrupt  his  eating,  looking 
up  from  his  own  plate  to  appreciate  Bob's  travelled  way 
of  putting  English  victuals  out  of  sight,  as  he  would 
have  looked  at  a  mill  on  improved  principles. 

David  had  only  just  got  the  table  clear,  and  set 
the  plates  in  a  row  under  the  bakehouse  table  for  the 
cats  to  lick,  when  the  door  was  hastily  opened,  and 
Mrs.  Garland  came  in,  looking  concerned. 

'I  have  been  waiting  to  hear  the  plates  removed 
to  tell  you  how  frightened  we  are  at  something  we  hear 
at  the  back-door.  It  seems  like  robbers  muttering  ;  but 
when  I  look  out  there's  nobody  there ! ' 

*  This  must  be  seen  to,'  said  the  miller,  rising 
promptly.  '  David,  light  the  middle-sized  lantern.  I'll 
go  and  search  the  garden.' 

'  And  I'll  go  too,'  said  his  son,  taking  up  a  cudgel. 
1  Lucky  I've  come  home  just  in  time  ! ' 

They  went  out  stealthily,  followed  by  the  widow  and 

Anne,  who  had  been  afraid  to  stay  alone  in  the  house 

under  the  circumstances.     No  sooner  were  they  beyond 

the  door  when,  sure  enough,  there  was  the  muttering, 

130 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

almost  close  at  hand,  and  low  upon  the  ground,  as  from 
persons  lying  down  in  hiding. 

1  Bless  my  heart ! '  said  Bob,  striking  his  head  as 
though  it  were  some  enemy's:  'why,  'tis  my  luggage. 
I'd  quite  forgot  it ! ' 

<  What ! '  asked  his  father. 

'  My  luggage.  Really,  if  it  hadn't  been  for  Mrs. 
Garland  it  would  have  stayed  there  all  night,  and  they, 
poor  things  !  would  have  been  starved.  I've  got  all 
sorts  of  articles  for  ye.  You  go  inside,  and  I'll  bring  'em 
in.  'Tis  parrots  that  you  hear  a  muttering,  Mrs.  Garland. 
You  needn't  be  afraid  any  more.' 

'  Parrots  ?  '  said  the  miller.  '  Well,  I'm  glad  'tis  no 
worse.  But  how  couldst  forget  so,  Bob  ?  ' 

The  packages  were  taken  in  by  David  and  Bob,  and 
the  first  unfastened  were  three,  wrapped  in  cloths,  which 
being  stripped  off  revealed  three  cages,  with  a  gorgeous 
parrot  in  each. 

'  This  one  is  for  you,  father,  to  hang  up  outside  the 
door,  and  amuse  us,'  said  Bob.  '  He'll  talk  very  well, 
but  he's  sleepy  to-night.  This  other  one  I  brought 
along  for  any  neighbour  that  would  like  to  have  him. 
His  colours  are  not  so  bright ;  but  'tis  a  good  bird. 
If  you  would  like  to  have  him  you  are  welcome  to  him,' 
he  said,  turning  to  Anne,  who  had  been  tempted  forward 
by  the  birds.  '  You  have  hardly  spoken  yet,  Miss  Anne, 
but  I  recollect  you  very  well.  How  much  taller  you 
have  got,  to  be  sure ! ' 

Anne  said  she  was  much  obliged,  but  did  not  know 
what  she  could  do  with  such  a  present.  Mrs.  Garland 
accepted  it  for  her,  and  the  sailor  went  on — '  Now  this 
other  bird  I  hardly  know  what  to  do  with ;  but  I  dare 
say  he'll  come  in  for  something  or  other.' 

'  He  is  by  far  the  prettiest,'  said  the  widow.  '  I 
would  rather  have  it  than  the  other,  if  you  don't  mind.' 

'  Yes,'  said  Bob,  with  embarrassment.  '  But  the  fact 
is,  that  bird  will  hardly  do  for  ye,  ma'am.  He's  a  hard 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

swearer,  to  tell  the  truth  •  and  I  am  afraid  he's  too  old 
to  be  broken  of  it.' 

'  How  dreadful ! '  said  Mrs.  Garland. 

'We  could  keep  him  in  the  mill/  suggested  the 
miller.  '  It  won't  matter  about  the  grinder  hearing  him, 
for  he  can't  learn  to  cuss  worse  than  he  do  already !  ' 

*  The  grinder  shall  have  him,  then,'  said  Bob.  '  The 
one  I  have  given  you,  ma'am,  has  no  harm  in  him  at  all. 
You  might  take  him  to  church  o'  Sundays  as  far  as  that 
goes.' 

The  sailor  now  untied  a  small  wooden  box  about  a 
foot  square,  perforated  with  holes.  { Here  are  two 
marmosets,'  he  continued.  'You  can't  see  them  to- 
night ;  but  they  are  beauties — the  tufted  sort.' 

'  What's  a  marmoset  ? '  said  the  miller. 

1  O,  a  little  kind  of  monkey.  They  bite  strangers 
rather  hard,  but  you'll  soon  get  used  to  'em.' 

1  They  are  wrapped  up  in  something,  I  declare,'  said 
Mrs.  Garland,  peeping  in  through  a  chink. 

'  Yes,  that's  my  flannel  shirt,'  said  Bob  apologetically. 
( They  suffer  terribly  from  cold  in  this  climate,  poor 
things !  and  I  had  nothing  better  to  give  them.  Well, 
now,  in  this  next  box  I've  got  things  of  different 
sorts.' 

The  latter  was  a  regular  seaman's  chest,  and  out  of 
it  he  produced  shells  of  many  sizes  and  colours,  carved 
ivories,  queer  little  caskets,  gorgeous  feathers,  and 
several  silk  handkerchiefs,  which  articles  were  spread  out 
upon  all  the  available  tables  and  chairs  till  the  house 
began  to  look  like  a  bazaar. 

'  What  a  lovely  shawl ! '  exclaimed  Widow  Garland, 
in  her  interest  forestalling  the  regular  exhibition  by  look- 
ing into  the  box  at  what  was  coming. 

1 0  yes,'  said  the  mate,  pulling  out  a  couple  of  the 

most  bewitching  shawls  that  eyes  ever  saw.      'One  of 

these  I  am  going  to  give  to  that  young  lady  I  am  shortly 

to  be  married  to,  you  know,  Mrs.  Garland.     Has  father 

132 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

told  you  about  it  ?  Matilda  Johnson,  of  Southampton, 
that's  her  name.' 

1  Yes,  we  know  all  about  it,'  said  the  widow. 

'Well,  I  shall  give  one  of  these  shawls  to  her — 
because,  of  course,  I  ought  to.' 

*  Of  course,'  said  she. 

'  But  the  other  one  I've  got  no  use  for  at  all ;  and,' 
he  continued,  looking  round,  'will  you  have  it,  Miss 
Anne  ?  You  refused  the  parrot,  and  you  ought  not  to 
refuse  this.' 

'  Thank  you,'  said  Anne  calmly,  but  much  distressed ; 
1  but  really  I  don't  want  it,  and  couldn't  take  it.' 

<  But  do  have  it ! '  said  Bob,  in  hurt  tones,  Mrs. 
Garland  being  all  the  while  on  tenter-hooks  lest  Anne 
should  persist  in  her  absurd  refusal. 

'  Why,  there's  another  reason  why  you  ought  to ! ' 
said  he,  his  face  lighting  up  with  recollections.  'It 
never  came  into  my  head  till  this  moment  that  I  used  to 
be  your  beau  in  a  humble  sort  of  way.  Faith,  so  I  did, 
and  we  used  to  meet  at  places  sometimes,  didn't  we  ? — 
that  is,  when  you  were  not  too  proud ;  and  once  I  gave 
you,  or  somebody  else,  a  bit  of  my  hair  in  fun.' 

'  It  was  somebody  else,'  said  Anne  quickly. 

'  Ah,  perhaps  it  was,'  said  Bob  innocently.  '  But  it 
was  you  I  used  to  meet,  or  try  to,  I  am  sure.  Well,  I've 
never  thought  of  that  boyish  time  for  years  till  this 
minute !  I  am  sure  you  ought  to  accept  some  one  gift, 
dear,  out  of  compliment  to  those  old  times  ! ' 

Anne  drew  back  and  shook  her  head,  for  she  would 
not  trust  her  voice. 

'Well,  Mrs.  Garland,  then  you  shall  have  it,'  said 
Bob,  tossing  the  shawl  to  that  ready  receiver.  '  If  you 
don't,  upon  my  life  I  will  throw  it  out  to  the  first  beggar 
I  see.  Now,  here's  a  parcel  of  cap  ribbons  of  the  splen- 
didest  sort  I  could  get.  Have  these — do,  Anne ! ' 

'  Yes,  do,'  said  Mrs.  Garland. 

'  I  promised  them  to  Matilda,'  continued  Bob ;  '  but 
133 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

I  am  sure  she  won't  want  'em,  as  she  has  got  some  of 
her  own :  and  I  would  as  soon  see  them  upon  your 
head,  my  dear,  as  upon  hers/ 

*  I  think  you  had  better  keep  them  for  your  bride  if 
you  have  promised  them  to  her,'  said   Mrs.    Garland 
mildly. 

'*  It  wasn't  exactly  a  promise.  I  just  said,  "  Til, 
there's  some  cap  ribbons  in  my  box,  if  you  would  like 
to  have  them."  But  she's  got  enough  things  already 
for  any  bride  in  creation.  Anne,  now  you  shall  have 
'em — upon  my  soul  you  shall — or  I'll  fling  them  down 
the  mill-tail ! ' 

Anne  had  meant  to  be  perfectly  firm  in  refusing 
everything,  for  reasons  obvious  even  to  that  poor  waif, 
the  meanest  capacity ;  but  when  it  came  to  this  point 
she  was  absolutely  compelled  to  give  in,  and  reluctantly 
received  the  cap  ribbons  in  her  arms,  blushing  fitfully, 
and  with  her  lip  trembling  in  a  motion  which  she  tried 
to  exhibit  as  a  smile. 

'  What  would  Tilly  say  if  she  knew ! '  said  the  miller 
slily. 

*  Yes,  indeed — and  it  is  wrong  of  him  ! '  Anne  in- 
stantly cried,  tears  running  down  her  face  as  she  threw 
the  parcel  of  ribbons  on  the  floor.      { You'd  better  be- 
stow your  gifts  where  you  bestow  your  1 — 1 — love,  Mr. 
Loveday — that's  what  I  say ! '     And  Anne  turned  her 
back  and  went  away. 

'  I'll  take  them  for  her,'  said  Mrs.  Garland,  quickly 
picking  up  the  parcel. 

'  Now  that's  a  pity,'  said  Bob,  looking  regretfully 
after  Anne.  { I  didn't  remember  that  she  was  a  quick- 
tempered sort  of  girl  at  all.  Tell  her,  Mrs.  Garland, 
that  I  ask  her  pardon.  But  of  course  I  didn't  know  she 
was  too  proud  to  accept  a  little  present — how  should 
I  ?  Upon  my  life  if  it  wasn't  for  Matilda  I'd —  Well, 
that  can't  be,  of  course.' 

<  What's  this  ?  '  said  Mrs.  Garland,  touching  with  her 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

foot  a  large  package  that  had  been  laid  down  by  Bob 
unseen. 

'That's  a  bit  of  baccy  for  myself,'  said  Robert 
meekly. 

The  examination  of  presents  at  last  ended,  and  the 
two  families  parked  for  the  night.  When  they  were 
alone,  Mrs.  Garland  said  to  Anne,  'What  a  close  girl 
you  are!  I  am  sure  I  never  knew  that  Bob  Loveday 
and  you  had  walked  together:  you  must  have  been 
mere  children.' 

*  O  yes — so  we  were,'  said  Anne,  now  quite  re- 
covered. '  It  was  when  we  first  came  here,  about  a 
year  after  father  died.  We  did  not  walk  together  in 
any  regular  way.  You  know  I  have  never  thought  the 
Lovedays  high  enough  for  me.  It  was  only  just — 
nothing  at  all,  and  I  had  almost  forgotten  it.' 

It  is  to  be  hoped  .that  somebody's  sins  were  forgiven 
her  that  night  before  she  went  to  bed. 

When  Bob  and  his  father  were  left  alone,  the  miller 
said,  *  Well,  Robert,  about  this  young  woman  of  thine — 
Matilda  what's  her  name  ?  ' 

'  Yes,  father — Matilda  Johnson.  I  was  just  going  to 
tell  ye  about  her.' 

The  miller  nodded,  and  sipped  his  mug. 

'  Well,  she  is  an  excellent  body,'  continued  Bob ;  '  that 
can  truly  be  said — a  real  charmer,  you  know — a  nice  good 
comely  young  woman,  a  miracle  of  genteel  breeding,  you 
know,  and  all  that.  She  can  throw  her  hair  into  the 
nicest  curls,  and  she's  got  splendid  gowns  and  head- 
clothes.  In  short,  you  might  call  her  a  land  mermaid. 
She'll  make  such  a  first-rate  wife  as  there  never  was.' 

'  No  doubt  she  will,'  said  the  miller ;  '  for  I  have 
never  known  thee  wanting  in  sense  in  a  jineral  way.' 
He  turned  his  cup  round  on  its  axis  till  the  handle  had 
travelled  a  complete  circle.  {  How  long  did  you  say  in 
your  letter  that  you  had  known  her  ?  ' 

« A  fortnight.' 

'35 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

'  Not  very  long.' 

'  It  don't  sound  long,  'tis  true ;  and  'twas  really  longer 
— 'twas  fifteen  days  and  a  quarter.  But  hang  it,  father, 
I  could  see  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye  that  the  girl  would 
do.  I  know  a  woman  well  enough  when  I  see  her — I 
ought  to,  indeed,  having  been  so  much  about  the  world. 
Now,  for  instance,  there's  Widow  Garland  and  her 
daughter.  The  girl  is  a  nice  little  thing ;  but  the  old 
woman — O  no  ! '  Bob  shook  his  head. 

*  What  of  her  ? '  said  his  father,  slightly  shifting  in 
his  chair. 

'Well,  she's,  she's — I  mean,  I  should  never  have 
chose  her,  you  know.  She's  of  a  nice  disposition,  and 
young  for  a  widow  with  a  grown-up  daughter ;  but  if  all 
the  men  had  been  like  me  she  would  never  have  had  a 
husband.  I  like  her  in  some  respects  ;  but  she's  a  style 
of  beauty  I  don't  care  for.' 

1 0,  if  'tis  only  looks  you  are  thinking  of,'  said  the 
miller,  much  relieved,  '  there's  nothing  to  be  said,  of 
course.  Though  there's  many  a  duchess  worse-looking, 
if  it  comes  to  argument,  as  you  would  find,  my  son,'  he 
added,  with  a  sense  of  having  been  mollified  too  soon. 

The  mate's  thoughts  were  elsewhere  by  this  time. 

'  As  to  my  marrying  Matilda,  thinks  I,  here's  one  of 
the  very  genteelest  sort,  and  I  may  as  well  do  the  job  at 
once.  So  I  chose  her.  She's  a  dear  girl ;  there's  nobody 
like  her,  search  where  you  will.' 

'  How  many  did  you  choose  her  out  from  ?  '  inquired 
his  father. 

'  Well,  she  was  the  only  young  woman  I  happened  to 
know  in  Southampton,  that's  true.  But  what  of  that  ? 
It  would  have  been  all  the  same  if  I  had  known  a 
hundred.' 

'  Her  father  is  in  business  near  the  docks,  I  suppose  ?  ' 

'  Well,  no.     In  short,  I  didn't  see  her  father.' 

1  Her  mother  ? ' 

t    '  Her  mother  ?     No,  I  didn't.     I  think  her  mother 
136 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

is  dead ;  but  she  has  got  a  very  rich  aunt  living  at  Mel- 
chester.  I  didn't  see  her  aunt,  because  there  wasn't  time 
to  go ;  but  of  course  we  shall  know  her  when  we  are 
married.' 

'  Yes,  yes,  of  course/  said  the  miller,  trying  to  feel 
quite  satisfied.  '  And  she  will  soon  be  here  ?  ' 

'  Ay,  she's  coming  soon,'  said  Bob.  '  She  has  gone 
to  this  aunt's  at  Melchester  to  get  her  things  packed,  and 
suchlike,  or  she  would  have  come  with  me.  I  am  going 
to  meet  the  coach  at  the  King's  Arms,  Casterbridge,  on 
Sunday,  at  one  o'clock.  To  show  what  a  capital  sort 
of  wife  she'll  be,  I  may  tell  you  that  she  wanted  to  come 
by  the  Mercury,  because  'tis  a  little  cheaper  than  the 
other.  But  I  said,  "  For  once  in  your  life  do  it  well,  and 
come  by  the  Royal  Mail,  and  I'll  pay."  I  can  have  the 
pony  and  trap  to  fetch  her,  I  suppose,  as  'tis  too  far  for 
her  to  walk  ? ' 

*  Of  course  you  can,  Bob,  or  anything  else.  And 
I'll  do  all  I  can  to  give  you  a  good  wedding  feast.' 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 


THEY  MAKE  READY  FOR  THE 

ILLUSTRIOUS  STRANGER 

XVI 

PREPARATIONS  for  Matilda's  welcome,  and  for  the 
event  which  was  to  follow,  at  once  occupied  the  atten- 
tion of  the  mill.  The  miller  and  his  man  had  but 
dim  notions  of  housewifery  on  any  large  scale ;  so  the 
great  wedding  cleaning  was  kindly  supervised  by  Mrs. 
Garland,  Bob  being  mostly  away  during  the  day  with 
his  brother,  the  trumpet-major,  on  various  errands,  one 
of  which  was  to  buy  paint  and  varnish  for  the  gig  that 
Matilda  was  to  be  fetched  in,  which  he  had  determined 
to  decorate  with  his  own  hands. 

By  the  widow's  direction  the  old  familiar  incrusta- 
tion of  shining  dirt,  imprinted  along  the  back  of  the 
settle  by  the  heads  of  countless  jolly  sitters,  was  scrubbed 
and  scraped  away ;  the  brown  circle  round  the  nail 
whereon  the  miller  hung  his  hat,  stained  by  the  brim 
in  wet  weather,  was  whitened  over ;  the  tawny  smudges 
of  bygone  shoulders  in  the  passage  were  removed  with- 
out regard  to  a  certain  genial  and  historical  value  which 
they  had  acquired.  The  face  of  the  clock,  coated  with 
verdigris  as  thick  as  a  diachylon  plaister,  was  rubbed 
till  the  figures  emerged  into  day ;  while,  inside  the  case 
of  the  same  chronometer,  the  cobwebs  that  formed 

138 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

triangular  hammocks,  which  the  pendulum  could  hardly 
wade  through,  were  cleared  away  at  one  swoop. 

Mrs.  Garland  also  assisted  at  the  invasion  of  worm- 
eaten  cupboards,  where  layers  of  ancient  smells  lingered 
on  in  the  stagnant  air,  and  recalled  to  the  reflective  nose 
the  many  good  things  that  had  been  kept  there.  The 
upper  floors  were  scrubbed  with  such  abundance  of 
water  that  the  old-established  death-watches,  wood-lice, 
and  flour-worms  were  all  drowned,  the  suds  trickling 
down  into  the  room  below  in  so  lively  and  novel  a 
manner  as  to  convey  the  romantic  notion  that  the  miller 
lived  in  a  cave  with  dripping  stalactites. 

They  moved  what  had  never  been  moved  before — 
the  oak  coffer,  containing  the  miller's  wardrobe — a 
tremendous  weight,  what  with  its  locks,  hinges,  nails, 
dirt,  framework,  and  the  hard  stratification  of  old  jackets, 
waistcoats,  and  knee-breeches  at  the  bottom,  never  dis- 
turbed since  the  miller's  wife  died,  and  half  pulverized 
by  the  moths,  whose  flattened  skeletons  lay  amid  the 
mass  in  thousands. 

'  It  fairly  makes  my  back  open  and  shut ! '  said 
Loveday,  as,  in  obedience  to  Mrs.  Garland's  direction, 
he  lifted  one  corner,  the  grinder  and  David  assisting  at 
the  others.  '  All  together :  speak  when  ye  be  going  to 
heave.  Now ! ' 

The  pot  covers  and  skimmers  were  brought  to  such 
a  state  that,  on  examining  them,  the  beholder  was  not 
conscious  of  utensils,  but  of  his  own  face  in  a  condition 
of  hideous  elasticity.  The  broken  clock-line  was  mended, 
the  kettles  rocked,  the  creeper  nailed  up,  and  a  new 
handle  put  to  the  warming-pan.  The  large  household 
lantern  was  cleaned  out,  after  three  years  of  uninterrupted 
accumulation,  the  operation  yielding  a  conglomerate  of 
candle-snuffs,  candle-ends,  remains  of  matches,  lamp- 
black, and  eleven  ounces  and  a  half  of  good  grease — 
invaluable  as  dubbing  for  skitty  boots  and  ointment 
for  cart-wheels. 

139 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

Everybody  said  that  the  mill  residence  had  not  been 
so  thoroughly  scoured  for  twenty  years.  The  miller 
and  David  looked  on  with  a  sort  of  awe  tempered  by 
gratitude,  tacitly  admitting  by  their  gaze  that  this  was 
beyond  what  they  had  ever  thought  of.  Mrs.  Garland 
supervised  all  with  disinterested  benevolence.  It  would 
never  have  done,  she  said,  for  his  future  daughter-in-law 
to  see  the  house  in  its  original  state.  She  would  have 
taken  a  dislike  to  him,  and  perhaps  to  Bob  likewise. 

'Why  don't  ye  come  and  live  here  with  me,  and 
then  you  would  be  able  to  see  to  it  at  all  times  ? ' 
said  the  miller  as  she  bustled  about  again.  To  which 
she  answered  that  she  was  considering  the  matter,  and 
might  in  good  time.  He  had  previously  informed  her 
that  his  plan  was  to  put  Bob  and  his  wife  in  the  part  of 
the  house  that  she,  Mrs.  Garland,  occupied,  as  soon  as 
she  chose  to  enter  his,  which  relieved  her  of  any  fear  of 
being  incommoded  by  Matilda. 

The  cooking  for  the  wedding  festivities  was  on  a  pro- 
portionate scale  of  thoroughness.  They  killed  the  four 
supernumerary  chickens  that  had  just  begun  to  crow, 
and  the  little  curly-tailed  barrow  pig,  in  preference  to 
the  sow;  not  having  been  put  up  fattening  for  more 
than  five  weeks  it  was  excellent  small  meat,  and  there- 
fore more  delicate  and  likely  to  suit  a  town-bred  lady's 
taste  than  the  large  one,  which,  having  reached  the 
weight  of  fourteen  score,  might  have  been  a  little  gross 
to  a  cultured  palate.  There  were  also  provided  a  cold 
chine,  stuffed  veal,  and  two  pigeon  pies.  Also  thirty 
rings  of  black-pot,  a  dozen  of  white-pot,  and  ten  knots 
of  tender  and  well-washed  chitterlings,  cooked  plain,  in 
case  she  should  like  a  change. 

As  additional  reserves  there  were  sweetbreads,  and  five 
milts,  sewed  up  at  one  side  in  the  form  of  a  chrysalis,  and 
stuffed  with  thyme,  sage,  parsley,  mint,  groats,  rice,  milk, 
chopped  egg,  and  other  ingredients.  They  were  afterwards 
roasted  before  a  slow  fire,  and  eaten  hot. 
140 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

The  business  of  chopping  so  many  herbs  for  the 
various  stuffings  was  found  to  be  aching  work  for  women ; 
and  David,  the  miller,  the  grinder,  and  the  grinder's  boy 
being  fully  occupied  in  their  proper  branches,  and  Bob 
being  very  busy  painting  the  gig  and  touching  up  the 
harness,  Loveday  called  in  a  friendly  dragoon  of  John's 
regiment  who  was  passing  by,  and  he,  being  a  muscular 
man,  willingly  chopped  all  the  afternoon  for  a  quart  of 
strong,  judiciously  administered,  and  all  other  victuals 
found,  taking  off  his  jacket  and  gloves,  rolling  up  his 
shirt-sleeves  and  unfastening  his  collar  in  an  honourable 
and  energetic  way. 

All  windfalls  and  maggot-cored  codlins  were  excluded 
from  the  apple  pies ;  and  as  there  was  no  known  dish 
large  enough  for  the  purpose,  the  puddings  were  stirred 
up  in  the  milking-pail,  and  boiled  in  the  three-legged 
bell-metal  crock,  of  great  weight  and  antiquity,  which 
every  travelling  tinker  for  the  previous  thirty  years  had 
tapped  with  his  stick,  coveted,  made  a  bid  for,  and  often 
attempted  to  steal. 

In  the  liquor  line  Loveday  laid  in  an  ample  barrel  of 
Casterbridge  '  strong  beer.'  This  renowned  drink — now 
almost  as  much  a  thing  of  the  past  as  FalstafPs  favourite 
beverage — was  not  only  well  calculated  to  win  the  hearts 
of  soldiers  blown  dry  and  dusty  by  residence  in  tents  on 
a  hill-top,  but  of  any  wayfarer  whatever  in  that  land.  It 
was  of  the  most  beautiful  colour  that  the  eye  of  an  artist 
in  beer  could  desire ;  full  in  body,  yet  brisk  as  a  volcano ; 
piquant,  yet  without  a  twang;  luminous  as  an  autumn 
sunset ;  free  from  streakiness  of  taste ;  but,  finally,  rather 
heady.  The  masses  worshipped  it,  the  minor  gentry 
loved  it  more  than  wine,  and  by  the  most  illustrious 
county  families  it  was  not  despised.  Anybody  brought 
up  for  being  drunk  and  disorderly  in  the  streets  of  its 
natal  borough,  had  only  to  prove  that  he  was  a  stranger 
to  the  place  and  its  liquor  to  be  honourably  dismissed 
by  the  magistrates,  as  one  overtaken  in  a  fault  that 
141 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

no  man  could  guard  against  who  entered  the  town 
unawares. 

In  addition,  Mr.  Loveday  also  tapped  a  hogshead  of 
fine  cider  that  he  had  had  mellowing  in  the  house  for 
several  months,  having  bought  it  of  an  honest  down- 
country  man,  who  did  not  colour,  for  any  special  occasion 
like  the  present.  It  had  been  pressed  from  fruit  judi- 
diously  chosen  by  an  old  hand — Horner  and  Cleeves 
apple  for  the  body,  a  few  Tom-Putts  for  colour,  and 
just  a  dash  of  Old  Five-corners  for  sparkle — a  selection 
originally  made  to  please  the  palate  of  a  well-known 
temperate  earl  who  was  a  regular  cider-drinker,  and  lived 
to  be  eighty-eight. 

On  the  morning  of  the  Sunday  appointed  for  her 
coming  Captain  Bob  Loveday  set  out  to  meet  his  bride. 
He  had  been  all  the  week  engaged  in  painting  the  gig, 
assisted  by  his  brother  at  odd  times,  and  it  now  appeared 
of  a  gorgeous  yellow,  with  blue  streaks,  and  tassels  at  the 
corners,  and  red  wheels  outlined  with  a  darker  shade. 
He  put  in  the  pony  at  half-past  eleven,  Anne  looking  at 
him  from  the  door  as  he  packed  himself  into  the  vehicle 
and  drove  off.  There  may  be  young  women  who  look 
out  at  young  men  driving  to  meet  their  brides  as  Anne 
looked  at  Captain  Bob,  and  yet  are  quite  indifferent  to 
the  circumstances ;  but  they  are  not  often  met  with. 

So  much  dust  had  been  raised  on  the  highway  by 
traffic  resulting  from  the  presence  of  the  Court  at  the 
town  further  on,  that  brambles  hanging  from  the  fence, 
and  giving  a  friendly  scratch  to  the  wanderer's  face, 
were  dingy  as  church  cobwebs ;  and  the  grass  on  the 
margin  had  assumed  a  paper-shaving  hue.  Bob's  father 
had  wished  him  to  take  David,  lest,  from  want  of  re- 
cent experience  at  the  whip,  he  should  meet  with  any 
mishap  ;  but,  picturing  to  himself  the  awkwardness  of 
three  in  such  circumstances,  Bob  would  not  hear  of 
this ;  and  nothing  more  serious  happened  to  his  driving 
than  that  the  wheel-marks  formed  two  serpentine  lines 
142 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

along  the  road  during  the  first  mile  or  two,  before  he 
had  got  his  hand  in,  and  that  the  horse  shied  at  a 
milestone,  a  piece  of  paper,  a  sleeping  tramp,  and  a 
wheelbarrow,  just  to  make  use  of  the  opportunity  of 
being  in  bad  hands. 

He  entered  Casterbridge  between  twelve  and  one, 
and,  putting  up  at  the  Old  Greyhound,  walked  on  to 
the  Bow.  Here,  rather  dusty  on  the  ledges  of  his 
clothes,  he  stood  and  waited  while  the  people  in  their 
best  summer  dresses  poured  out  of  the  three  churches 
round  him.  When  they  had  all  gone,  and  a  smell  of 
cinders  and  gravy  had  spread  down  the  ancient  high- 
street,  and  the  pie-dishes  from  adjacent  bakehouses  had 
all  travelled  past,  he  saw  the  mail  coach  rise  above 
the  arch  of  Grey's  Bridge,  a  quarter  of  a  mile  distant, 
surmounted  by  swaying  knobs,  which  proved  to  be  the 
heads  of  the  outside  travellers. 

'  That's  the  way  for  a  man's  bride  to  come  to  him  ! ' 
said  Robert  to  himself  with  a  feeling  of  poetry;  and 
as  the  horn  sounded  and  the  horses  clattered  up  the 
street  he  walked  down  to  the  inn.  The  knot  of  hostlers 
and  inn-servants  had  gathered,  the  horses  were  dragged 
from  the  vehicle,  and  the  passengers  for  Casterbridge 
began  to  descend.  Captain  Bob  eyed  them  over,  looked 
inside,  looked  outside  again;  to  his  disappointment 
Matilda  was  not  there,  nor  her  boxes,  nor  anything  that 
was  hers.  Neither  coachman  nor  guard  had  seen  or 
heard  of  such  a  person  at  Melchester ;  and  Bob  walked 
slowly  away. 

Depressed  by  forebodings  to  an  extent  which  took 
away  nearly  a  third  of  his  appetite,  he  sat  down  in  the 
parlour  of  the  Old  Greyhound  to  a  slice  from  the  family 
joint  of  the  landlord.  This  gentleman,  who  dined  in 
his  shirt- sleeves,  partly  because  it  was  August,  and 
partly  from  a  sense  that  they  would  not  be  so  fit  for 
public  view  further  on  in  the  week,  suggested  that  Bob 
should  wait  till  three  or  four  that  afternoon,  when  the 
143 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

road-waggon  would  arrive,  as  the  lost  lady  might  have 
preferred  that  mode  of  conveyance  \  and  when  Bob 
appeared  rather  hurt  at  the  suggestion,  the  landlord's 
wife  assured  him,  as  a  woman  who  knew  good  life,  that 
many  genteel  persons  travelled  in  that  way  during  the 
present  high  price  of  provisions.  Loveday,  who  knew 
little  of  travelling  by  land,  readily  accepted  her  assurance 
and  resolved  to  wait. 

Wandering  up  and  down  the  pavement,  or  leaning 
against  some  hot  wall  between  the  waggon-office  and 
the  corner  of  the  street  above,  he  passed  the  time  away. 
It  was  a  still,  sunny,  drowsy  afternoon,  and  scarcely  a 
soul  was  visible  in  the  length  and  breadth  of  the  street. 
The  office  was  not  far  from  All  Saints'  Church,  and 
the  church-windows  being  open,  he  could  hear  the  after- 
noon service  from  where  he  lingered  as  distinctly  as  if 
he  had  been  one  of  the  congregation.  Thus  he  was 
mentally  conducted  through  the  Psalms,  through  the 
first  and  second  lessons,  through  the  burst  of  fiddles 
and  clarionets  which  announced  the  evening-hymn,  and 
well  into  the  sermon,  before  any  signs  of  the  waggon 
could  be  seen  upon  the  London  road. 

The  afternoon  sermons  at  this  church  being  of  a  dry 
and  metaphysical  nature  at  that  date,  it  was  by  a  special 
providence  that  the  waggon-office  was  placed  near  the 
ancient  fabric,  so  that  whenever  the  Sunday  waggon  was 
late,  which  it  always  was  in  hot  weather,  in  cold  weather, 
in  wet  weather,  and  in  weather  of  almost  every  other 
sort,  the  rattle,  dismounting,  and  swearing  outside  com- 
pletely drowned  the  parson's  voice  within,  and  sustained 
the  flagging  interest  of  the  congregation  at  precisely 
the  right  moment.  No  sooner  did  the  charity  children 
begin  to  writhe  on  their  benches,  and  adult  snores  grow 
audible,  than  the  waggon  arrived. 

Captain  Loveday  felt  a  kind  of  sinking  in  his  poetry 
at  the  possibility  of  her  for  whom  they  had  made  such 
preparations  being  in  the  slow,  unwieldy  vehicle  which 
144 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

crunched  its  way  towards  him ;  but  he  would  not  give 
in  to  the  weakness.  Neither  would  he  walk  down 
the  street  to  meet  the  waggon,  lest  she  should  not 
be  there.  At  last  the  broad  wheels  drew  up  against 
the  kerb,  the  waggoner  with  his  white  smock-frock,  and 
whip  as  long  as  a  fishing-line,  descended  from  the  pony 
on  which  he  rode  alongside,  and  the  six  broad-chested 
horses  backed  from  their  collars  and  shook  themselves. 
In  another  moment  something  showed  forth,  and  he 
knew  that  Matilda  was  there. 

Bob  felt  three  cheers  rise  within  him  as  she  stepped 
down ;  but  it  being  Sunday  he  did  not  utter  them.  In 
dress,  Miss  Johnson  passed  his  expectations — a  green 
and  white  gown,  with  long,  tight  sleeves,  a  green  silk 
handkerchief  round  her  neck  and  crossed  in  front,  a 
green  parasol,  and  green  gloves.  It  was  strange  enough 
to  see  this  verdant  caterpillar  turn  out  of  a  road- 
waggon,  and  gracefully  shake  herself  free  from  the  bits 
of  straw  and  fluff  which  would  usually  gather  on  the 
raiment  of  the  grandest  travellers  by  that  vehicle. 

*  But,  my  dear  Matilda,'  said  Bob,  when  he  had 
kissed  her  three  times  with  much  publicity — the  prac- 
tical step  he  had  determined  on  seeming  to  demand 
that  these  things  should  no  longer  be  done  in  a  corner 
— c  my  dear  Matilda,  why  didn't  you  come  by  the  coach, 
having  the  money  for't  and  all  ? ' 

'  That's  my  scrimping ! '  said  Matilda  in  a  delightful 
gush.  '  I  know  you  won't  be  offended  when  you  know 
I  did  it  to  save  against  a  rainy  day ! ' 

Bob,  of  course,  was  not  offended,  though  the  glory 
of  meeting  her  had  been  less  ;  and  even  if  vexation  were 
possible,  it  would  have  been  out  of  place  to  say  so. 
Still,  he  would  have  experienced  no  little  surprise  had 
he  learnt  the  real  reason  of  his  Matilda's  change  of  plan. 
That  angel  had,  in  short,  so  wildly  spent  Bob's  and  her 
own  money  in  the  adornment  of  her  person  before 
setting  out,  that  she  found  herself  without  a  sufficient 
145  K 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

margin  for  her  fare  by  coach,  and  had  scrimped  from 
sheer  necessity. 

'  Well,  I  have  got  the  trap  out  at  the  Greyhound,' 
said  Bob.  '  I  don't  know  whether  it  will  hold  your 
luggage  and  us  too ;  but  it  looked  more  respectable  than 
the  waggon  on  a  Sunday,  and  if  there's  not  room  for  the 
boxes  I  can  walk  alongside.' 

'I  think  there  will  be  room,'  said  Miss  Johnson 
mildly.  And  it  was  soon  very  evident  that  she  spoke 
the  truth ;  for  when  her  property  was  deposited  on  the 
pavement,  it  consisted  of  a  trunk  about  eighteen  inches 
long,  and  nothing  more. 

*  O — that's  all ! '  said  Captain  Loveday,  surprised. 

'  That's  all,'  said  the  young  woman  assuringly.  '  I 
didn't  want  to  give  trouble,  you  know,  and  what  I  have 
besides  I  have  left  at  my  aunt's.' 

c  Yes,  of  course,'  he  answered  readily.  '  And  as  it's 
no  bigger,  I  can  carry  it  in  my  hand  to  the  inn,  and  so  it 
will  be  no  trouble  at  all.' 

He  caught  up  the  little  box,  and  they  went  side  by 
side  to  the  Greyhound;  and  in  ten  minutes  they  were 
trotting  up  the  Southern  Road. 

Bob  did  not  hurry  the  horse,  there  being  many  things 
to  say  and  hear,  for  which  the  present  situation  was 
admirably  suited.  The  sun  shone  occasionally  into 
Matilda's  face  as  they  drove  on,  its  rays  picking  out  all 
her  features  to  a  great  nicety.  Her  eyes  would  have 
been  called  brown,  but  they  were  really  eel-colour,  like 
many  other 'nice  brown  eyes;  they  were  well-shaped  and 
rather  bright,  though  they  had  more  of  a  broad  shine 
than  a  sparkle.  She  had  a  firm,  sufficient  nose,  which 
seemed  to  say  of  itself  that  it  was  good  as  noses  go. 
She  had  rather  a  picturesque  way  of  wrapping  her  upper 
in  her  lower  lip,  so  that  the  red  of  the  latter  showed 
strongly.  Whenever  she  gazed  against  the  sun  towards 
the  distant  hills,  she  brought  into  her  forehead,  without 
knowing  it,  three  short  vertical  lines — not  there  at 
146 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

other  times — giving  her  for  the  moment  rather  a  hard 
look.  And  in  turning  her  head  round  to  a  far  angle, 
to  stare  at  something  or  other  that  he  pointed  out, 
the  drawn  flesh  of  her  neck  became  a  mass  of  lines. 
But  Bob  did  not  look  at  these  things,  which,  of  course, 
were  of  no  significance;  for  had  she  not  told  him, 
when  they  compared  ages,  that  she  was  a  little  over 
two-and-twenty  ? 

As  Nature  was  hardly  invented  at  this  early  point  of 
the  century,  Bob's  Matilda  could  not  say  much  about  the 
glamour  of  the  hills,  or  the  shimmering  of  the  foliage,  or 
the  wealth  of  glory  in  the  distant  sea,  as  she  would 
doubtless  have  done  had  she  lived  later  on ;  but  she 
did  her  best  to  be  interesting,  asking  Bob  about  matters 
of  social  interest  in  the  neighbourhood,  to  which  she 
seemed  quite  a  stranger. 

'  Is  your  watering-place  a  large  city  ? '  she  inquired 
when  they  mounted  the  hill  where  the  Overcombe  folk 
had  waited  for  the  King. 

'  Bless  you,  my  dear — no  !  'Twould  be  nothing  if  it 
wasn't  for  the  Royal  Family,  and  the  lords  and  ladies, 
and  the  regiments  of  soldiers,  and  the  frigates,  and  the 
King's  messengers,  and  the  actors  and  actresses,  and  the 
games  that  go  on.' 

At  the  words  'actors  and  actresses,'  the  innocent 
young  thing  pricked  up  her  ears. 

'  Does  Elliston  pay  as  good  salaries  this  summer  as 
in ?' 

*  O,  you  know  about  it  then  ?     I  thought ' 

'  O  no,  no  !  I  have  heard  of  Budmouth — read  in 
the  papers,  you  know,  dear  Robert,  about  the  doings 
there,  and  the  actors  and  actresses,  you  know.' 

'  Yes,  yes,  I  see.  Well,  I  have  been  away  from 
England  a  long  time,  and  don't  know  much  about  the 
theatre  in  the  town  •  but  I'll  take  you  there  some  day. 
Would  it  be  a  treat  to  you  ? ' 

'  O,  an  amazing  treat ! '  said  Miss  Johnson,  with  an 
147 


THE   TRUMPET-MAJOR 

ecstasy  in  which  a  close  observer  might  have  discovered 
a  tinge  of  ghastliness. 

1  You've  never  been  into  one  perhaps,  dear  ?  ' 

1  N — never,'  said  Matilda  flatly.  *  Whatever  do  I  see 
yonder — a  row  of  white  things  on  the  down  ?  ' 

'Yes,  that's  a  part  of  the  encampment  above  Over- 
combe.  Lots  of  soldiers  are  encamped  about  here; 
those  are  the  white  tops  of  their  tents.' 

He  pointed  to  a  wing  of  the  camp  that  had  become 
visible.  Matilda  was  much  interested. 

'  It  will  make  it  very  lively  for  us,'  he  added,  '  espe- 
cially as  John  is  there.' 

She  thought  so  too,  and  thus  they  chatted  on. 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 


TWO  FAINTING  FITS 
AND  A  BEWILDERMENT 

XVII 

MEANWHILE  Miller  Loveday  was  expecting  the  pair 
with  interest ;  and  about  five  o'clock,  after  repeated  out- 
looks, he  saw  two  specks  the  size  of  caraway  seeds  on  the 
far  line  of  ridge  where  the  sunlit  white  of  the  road  met  the 
blue  of  the  sky.  Then  the  remainder  parts  of  Bob  and  his 
lady  became  visible,  and  then  the  whole  vehicle,  end  on, 
and  he  heard  the  dry  rattle  of  the  wheels  on  the  dusty  road. 
Miller  Loveday's  plan,  as  far  as  he  had  formed  any,  was 
that  Robert  and  his  wife  should  live  with  him  in  the  mill- 
house  until  Mrs.  Garland  made  up  her  mind  to  join  him 
there ;  in  which  event  her  present  house  would  be  made 
over  to  the  young  couple.  Upon  all  grounds,  he  wished 
to  welcome  becomingly  the  woman  of  his  son's  choice,  and 
came  forward  promptly  as  they  drew  up  at  the  door. 

*  What  a  lovely  place  you've  got  here ! '  said  Miss 
Johnson,  when  the  miller  had  received  her  from  the 
captain.  <  A  real  stream  of  water,  a  real  mill-wheel,  and 
real  fowls,  and  everything  ! ' 

'  Yes,  'tis  real  enough,'  said  Loveday,  looking  at  the 
river  with  balanced   sentiments;  'and  so  you  will  say 
when  you've  lived  here  a  bit  as  mis'ess,  and  had  the 
trouble  of  claning  the  furniture.' 
149 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

At  this  Miss  Johnson  looked  modest,  and  continued 
to  do  so  till  Anne,  not  knowing  they  were  there,  came 
round  the  corner  of  the  house,  with  her  prayer-book  in 
her  hand,  having  just  arrived  from  church.  Bob  turned 
and  smiled  to  her,  at  which  Miss  Johnson  looked  glum. 
How  long  she  would  have  remained  in  that  phase  is 
unknown,  for  just  then  her  ears  were  assailed  by  a  loud 
bass  note  from  the  other  side,  causing  her  to  jump  round. 

'O  la!  what  dreadful  thing  is  it?'  she  exclaimed, 
and  beheld  a  cow  of  Loveday's,  of  the  name  of  Grumpier, 
standing  close  to  her  shoulder.  It  being  about  milking- 
time,  she  had  come  to  look  up  David  and  hasten  on  the 
operation. 

'  O,  what  a  horrid  bull ! — it  did  frighten  me  so.  I 
hope  I  shan't  faint,'  said  Matilda. 

The  miller  immediately  used  the  formula  which  has 
been  uttered  by  the  proprietors  of  live  stock  ever  since 
Noah's  time.  '  She  won't  hurt  ye.  Hoosh,  Grumpier  ! 
She's  as  timid  as  a  mouse,  ma'am.' 

But  as  Grumpier  persisted  in  making  another  terrific 
inquiry  for  David,  Matilda  could  not  help  closing  her 
eyes  and  saying,  <  O,  I  shall  be  gored  to  death ! '  her 
head  falling  back  upon  Bob's  shoulder,  which — seeing 
the  urgent  circumstances,  and  knowing  her  delicate 
nature — he  had  providentially  placed  in  a  position  to 
catch  her.  Anne  Garland,  who  had  been  standing  at 
the  corner  of  the  house,  not  knowing  whether  to  go 
back  or  come  on,  at  this  felt  her  womanly  sympathies 
aroused.  She  ran  and  dipped  her  handkerchief  into  the 
splashing  mill-tail,  and  with  it  damped  Matilda's  face. 
But  as  her  eyes  still  remained  closed,  Bob,  to  increase 
the  effect,  took  the  handkerchief  from  Anne  and  wrung 
it  out  on  the  bridge  of  Matilda's  nose,  whence  it  ran 
over  the  rest  of  her  face  in  a  stream. 

*  O,  Captain  Loveday ! '  said  Anne,  '  the  water  is 
running  over  her  green  silk  handkerchief,  and  into  her 
pretty  reticule ! ' 


THE   TRUMPET-MAJOR 

'  There— if  I  didn't  think  so  ! '  exclaimed  Matilda, 
opening  her  eyes,  starting  up,  and  promptly  pulling  out 
her  own  handkerchief,  with  which  she  wiped  away  the 
drops,  and  an  unimportant  trifle  of  her  complexion, 
assisted  by  Anne,  who,  in  spite  of  her  background  of 
antagonistic  emotions,  could  not  help  being  interested. 

1  That's  right ! '  said  the  miller,  his  spirits  reviving 
with  the  revival  of  Matilda.  '  The  lady  is  not  used  to 
country  life ;  are  you,  ma'am  ?  ' 

'  I  am  not,'  replied  the  sufferer.  '  All  is  so  strange 
about  here ! ' 

Suddenly  there  spread  into  the  firmament,  from  the 
direction  of  the  down  : — 

'  Ra,  ta,  ta  !  Ta-ta-ta-ta-ta  !  Ra,  ta,  ta ! ' 

*  O    dear,  dear !  more   hideous    country    sounds,    I 
suppose  ? '  she  inquired,  with  another  start. 

'  O  no,'  said  the  miller  cheerfully.  '  'Tis  only  my 
son  John's  trumpeter  chaps  at  the  camp  of  dragoons 
just  above  us,  a-blowing  Mess,  or  Feed,  or  Picket,  or 
some  other  of  their  vagaries.  John  will  be  much  pleased 
to  tell  you  the  meaning  on't  when  he  comes  down.  He's 
trumpet-major,  as  you  may  know,  ma'am.' 

*  O  yes  ;  you  mean  Captain  Loveday's  brother.     Dear 
Bob  has  mentioned  him.' 

*  If  you  come  round  to  Widow  Garland's  side  of  the 
house,  you  can  see  the  camp,'  said  the  miller. 

'  Don't  force  her  ;  she's  tired  with  her  long  journey,' 
said  Mrs.  Garland  humanely,  the  widow  having  come 
out  in  the  general  wish  to  see  Captain  Bob's  choice. 
Indeed,  they  all  behaved  towards  her  as  if  she  were  a 
tender  exotic,  which  their  crude  country  manners  might 
seriously  injure. 

She  went  into  the  house,  accompanied  by  Mrs. 
Garland  and  her  daughter;  though  before  leaving  Bob 
she  managed  to  whisper  in  his  ear,  '  Don't  tell  them  I 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

came  by  waggon,  will  you,  dear  ? ' — a  request  which  was 
quite  needless,  for  Bob  had  long  ago  determined  to  keep 
that  a  dead  secret;  not  because  it  was  an  uncommon 
mode  of  travel,  but  simply  that  it  was  hardly  the  usual 
conveyance  for  a  gorgeous  lady  to  her  bridal. 

As  the  men  had  a  feeling  that  they  would  be  super- 
fluous indoors  just  at  present,  the  miller  assisted  David 
in  taking  the  horse  round  to  the  stables,  Bob  following, 
and  leaving  Matilda  to  the  women.  Indoors,  Miss 
Johnson  admired  everything  :  the  new  parrots  and  mar- 
mosets, the  black  beams  of  the  ceiling,  the  double-corner 
cupboard  with  the  glass  doors,  through  which  gleamed 
the  remainders  of  sundry  china  sets  acquired  by  Bob's 
mother  in  her  housekeeping — two-handled  sugar-basins, 
no-handled  tea-cups,  a  tea-pot  like  a  pagoda,  and  a 
cream-jug  in  the  form  of  a  spotted  cow.  This  sociability 
in  their  visitor  was  returned  by  Mrs.  Garland  and  Anne ; 
and  Miss  Johnson's  pleasing  habit  of  partly  dying 
whenever  she  heard  any  unusual  bark  or  bellow  added 
to  her  piquancy  in  their  eyes.  But  conversation,  as 
such,  was  naturally  at  first  of  a  nervous,  tentative  kind, 
in  which,  as  in  the  works  of  some  minor  poets,  the  sense 
was  considerably  led  by  the  sound. 

'  You  get  the  sea-breezes  here,  no  doubt  ?  ' 

'  O  yes,  dear ;  when  the  wind  is  that  way.' 

'  Do  you  like  windy  weather  ? ' 

'  Yes ;  though  not  now,  for  it  blows  down  the  young 
apples.' 

c  Apples  are  plentiful,  it  seems.  You  country-folk 
call  St.  Swithin's  their  christening  day,  if  it  rains  ?  ' 

'  Yes,  dear.  Ah  me !  I  have  not  been  to  a  christening 
for  these  many  years;  the  baby's  name  was  George,  I 
remember — after  the  King.' 

*  I  hear  that  King  George  is  still  staying  at  the  town 
here.  I  hope  he'll  stay  till  I  have  seen  him  ! ' 

'  He'll  wait  till  the  corn  turns  yellow ;  he  always 
does.' 

152 


THE   TRUMPET-MAJOR 

'  How  very  fashionable  yellow  is  getting  for  gloves 
just  now ! ' 

'  Yes.  Some  persons  wear  them  to  the  elbow,  I 
hear.7 

'  Do  they  ?  I  was  not  aware  of  that.  I  struck  my 
elbow  last  week  so  hard  against  the  door  of  my  aunt's 
mansion  that  I  feel  the  ache  now.' 

Before  they  were  quite  overwhelmed  by  the  interest 
of  this  discourse,  the  miller  and  Bob  came  in.  In  truth, 
Mrs.  Garland  found  the  office  in  which  he  had  placed 
her — that  of  introducing  a  strange  woman  to  a  house 
which  was  not  the  widow's  own — a  rather  awkward  one, 
and  yet  almost  a  necessity.  There  was  no  woman 
belonging  to  the  house  except  that  wondrous  com- 
pendium of  usefulness,  the  intermittent  maid-servant, 
whom  Loveday  had,  for  appearances,  borrowed  from  Mrs. 
Garland,  and  Mrs.  Garland  was  in  the  habit  of  borrowing 
from  the  girl's  mother.  And  as  for  the  demi-woman 
David,  he  had  been  informed  as  peremptorily  as  Pharaoh's 
baker  that  the  office  of  housemaid  and  bedmaker  was 
taken  from  him,  and  would  be  given  to  this  girl  till  the 
wedding  was  over,  and  Bob's  wife  took  the  management 
into  her  own  hands. 

They  all  sat  down  to  high  tea,  Anne  and  her  mother 
included,  and  the  captain  sitting  next  to  Miss  Johnson. 
Anne  had  put  a  brave  face  upon  the  matter — outwardly, 
at  least — and  seemed  in  a  fair  way  of  subduing  any 
lingering  sentiment  which  Bob's  return  had  revived. 
During  the  evening,  and  while  they  still  sat  over  the 
meal,  John  came  down  on  a  hurried  visit,  as  he  had 
promised,  ostensibly  on  purpose  to  be  introduced  to 
his  intended  sister-in-law,  but  much  more  to  get  a  word 
and  a  smile  from  his  beloved  Anne.  Before  they  saw 
him,  they  heard  the  trumpet-major's  smart  step  coming 
round  the  corner  of  the  house,  and  in  a  moment  his 
form  darkened  the  door.  As  it  was  Sunday,  he  ap- 
peared in  his  full-dress  laced  coat,  white  waistcoat  and 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

breeches,  and  towering  plume,  the  latter  of  which  he 
instantly  lowered,  as  much  from  necessity  as  good 
manners,  the  beam  in  the  mill-house  ceiling  having  a 
tendency  to  smash  and  ruin  all  such  head-gear  without 
warning. 

'  John,  we've  been  hoping  you  would  come  down,' 
said  the  miller,  'and  so  we  have  kept  the  tay  about 
on  purpose.  Draw  up,  and  speak  to  Mrs.  Matilda 
Johnson.  .  .  .  Ma'am,  this  is  Robert's  brother.' 

«  Your  humble  servant,  ma'am,'  said  the  trumpet- 
major  gallantly. 

As  it  was  getting  dusk  in  the  low,  small-paned  room, 
he  instinctively  moved  towards  Miss  Johnson  as  he 
spoke,  who  sat  with  her  back  to  the  window.  He  had 
no  sooner  noticed  her  features  than  his  helmet  nearly 
fell  from  his  hand ;  his  face  became  suddenly  fixed, 
and  his  natural  complexion  took  itself  off,  leaving  a 
greenish  yellow  in  its  stead.  The  young  person,  on 
her  part,  had  no  sooner  looked  closely  at  him  than  she 
said  weakly,  *  Robert's  brother  ! '  and  changed  colour 
yet  more  rapidly  than  the  soldier  had  done.  The  faint- 
ness,  previously  half  counterfeit,  seized  on  her  now  in 
real  earnest. 

'  I  don't  feel  well,'  she  said,  suddenly  rising  by  an 
effort.  '  This  warm  day  has  quite  upset  me  !  ' 

There  was  a  regular  collapse  of  the  tea-party,  like 
that  of  the  Hamlet  play  scene.  Bob  seized  his  sweet- 
heart and  carried  her  upstairs,  the  miller  exclaiming, 
*  Ah,  she's  terribly  worn  by  the  journey  !  I  thought 
she  was  when  I  saw  her  nearly  go  off  at  the  blare  of 
the  cow.  No  woman  would  have  been  frightened  at 
that  if  she'd  been  up  to  her  natural  strength.' 

'  That,  and  being  so  very  shy  of  men,  too,  must 
have  made  John's  handsome  regimentals  quite  over- 
powering to  her,  poor  thing !  '  added  Mrs.  Garland, 
following  the  catastrophic  young  lady  upstairs,  whose 
indisposition  was  this  time  beyond  question.  And  yet, 
154 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

by  some  perversity  of  the  heart,  she  was  as  eager  now 
to  make  light  of  her  faintness  as  she  had  been  to  make 
much  of  it  two  or  three  hours  ago. 

The  miller  and  John  stood  like  straight  sticks  in 
the  room  the  others  had  quitted,  John's  face  being 
hastily  turned  towards  a  caricature  of  Buonaparte  on 
the  wall  that  he  had  not  seen  more  than  a  hundred 
and  fifty  times  before. 

'  Come,  sit  down  and  have  a  dish  of  tea,  anyhow,' 
said  his  father  at  last.  '  She'll  soon  be  right  again, 
no  doubt.' 

'  Thanks ;  I  don't  want  any  tea,'  said  John  quickly. 
And,  indeed,  he  did  not,  for  he  was  in  one  gigantic  ache 
from  head  to  foot. 

The  light  had  been  too  dim  for  anybody  to  notice 
his  amazement ;  and  not  knowing  where  to  vent  it,  the 
trumpet-major  said  he  was  going  out  for  a  minute.  He 
hastened  to  the  bakehouse;  but  David  being  there,  he 
went  to  the  pantry ;  but  the  maid  being  there,  he  went 
to  the  cart-shed;  but  a  couple  of  tramps  being  there, 
he  went  behind  a  row  of  French  beans  in  the  garden, 
where  he  let  off  an  ejaculation  the  most  pious  that  he 
had  uttered  that  Sabbath  day :  '  Heaven !  what's  to  be 
done ! ' 

And  then  he  walked  wildly  about  the  paths  of  the 
dusky  garden,  where  the  trickling  of  the  brooks  seemed 
loud  by  comparison  with  the  stillness  around ;  treading 
recklessly  on  the  cracking  snails  that  had  come  forth 
to  feed,  and  entangling  his  spurs  in  the  long  grass  till 
the  rowels  were  choked  with  its  blades.  Presently  he 
heard  another  person  approaching,  and  his  brother's 
shape  appeared  between  the  stubbard  tree  and  the 
hedge. 

'  O,  is  it  you  ? '  said  the  mate. 

'  Yes.     I  am — taking  a  little  air.' 

'  She  is  getting  round  nicely  again ;  and  as  I  am 
not  wanted  indoors  just  now,  I  am  going  into  the 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

village  to  call  upon  a  friend  or  two  I  have  not  been 
able  to  speak  to  as  yet.' 

John  took  his  brother  Bob's  hand.  Bob  rather 
wondered  why. 

'All  right,  old  boy,'  he  said.  'Going  into  the 
village?  You'll  be  back  again,  I  suppose,  before  it 
gets  very  late  ?  ' 

1  O  yes,'  said  Captain  Bob  cheerfully,  and  passed  out 
of  the  garden. 

John  allowed  his  eyes  to  follow  his  brother  till  his 
shape  could  not  be  seen,  and  then  he  turned  and  again 
walked  up  and  down. 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 


THE  NIGHT  AFTER 

THE  ARRIVAL 

XVIII 

J  OHN  continued  his  sad  and  heavy  pace  till  walking 
seemed  too  old  and  worn-out  a  way  of  showing  sorrow  so 
new,  and  he  leant  himself  against  the  fork  of  an  apple- 
tree  like  a  log.  There  the  trumpet-major  remained  for 
a  considerable  time,  his  face  turned  towards  the  house, 
whose  ancient,  many-chimneyed  outline  rose  against  the 
darkened  sky,  and  just  shut  out  from  his  view  the  camp 
above.  But  faint  noises  coming  thence  from  horses  rest- 
less at  the  pickets,  and  from  visitors  taking  their  leave, 
recalled  its  existence,  and  reminded  him  that,  in  conse- 
quence of  Matilda's  arrival,  he  had  obtained  leave  for  the 
night — a  fact  which,  owing  to  the  startling  emotions  that 
followed  his  entry,  he  had  not  yet  mentioned  to  his 
friends. 

While  abstractedly  considering  how  he  could  best  use 
that  privilege  under  the  new  circumstances  which  had 
arisen,  he  heard  Farmer  Derriman  drive  up  to  the  front 
door  and  hold  a  conversation  with  his  father.  The  old 
man  had  at  last  apparently  brought  the  tin  box  of  pri- 
vate papers  that  he  wished  the  miller  to  take  charge  of 
during  Derriman's  absence ;  and  it  being  a  calm  night, 
John  could  hear,  though  he  little  heeded,  Uncle  Benjy's 
157 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

reiterated  supplications  to  Loveday  to  keep  it  safe  from 
fire  and  thieves.  Then  Uncle  Benjy  left,  and  John's 
father  went  upstairs  to  deposit  the  box  in  a  place  of 
security,  the  whole  proceeding  reaching  John's  preoccu- 
pied comprehension  merely  as  voices  during  sleep.- 

The  next  thing  was  the  appearance  of  a  light  in  the 
bedroom  which  had  been  assigned  to  Matilda  Johnson. 
This  effectually  aroused  the  trumpet-major,  and  with  a 
stealthiness  unusual  in  him  he  went  indoors.  No  light 
was  in  the  lower  rooms,  his  father,  Mrs.  Garland,  and 
Anne  having  gone  out  on  the  bridge  to  look  at  the  new 
moon.  John  went  upstairs  on  tip-toe,  and  along  the 
uneven  passage  till  he  came  to  her  door.  It  was  standing 
ajar,  a  band  of  candlelight  shining  across  the  passage  and 
up  the  opposite  wall.  As  soon  as  he  entered  the  radi- 
ance he  saw  her.  She  was  standing  before  the  looking- 
glass,  apparently  lost  in  thought,  her  fingers  being  clasped 
behind  her  head  in  abstraction,  and  the  light  falling  full 
upon  her  face. 

'  I  must  speak  to  you,'  said  the  trumpet-major. 

She  started,  turned  and  grew  paler  than  before ;  and 
then,  as  if  moved  by  a  sudden  impulse,  she  swung  the 
door  wide  open,  and,  coming  out,  said  quite  collectedly 
and  with  apparent  pleasantness,  *  O  yes ;  you  are  my 
Bob's  brother !  I  didn't,  for  a  moment,  recognize  you.' 

'  But  you  do  now  ?  ' 

'  As  Bob's  brother.' 

1  You  have  not  seen  me  before  ?  ' 

'  I  have  not,'  she  answered,  with  a  face  as  impassible 
as  Talleyrand's. 

1  Good  God  ! ' 

'  I  have  not ! '  she  repeated. 

'Nor  any  of  the  — th  Dragoons?  Captain  Jolly, 
for  instance  ? ' 

'No.' 

'You   mistake;  I'll  remind  you  of  particulars,'   he 
said  drily.     And  he  did  remind  her  at  some  length. 
158 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

1  Never ! '  she  said  desperately. 

But  she  had  miscalculated  her  staying  powers,  and 
her  adversary's  character.  Five  minutes  after  that  she 
was  in  tears,  and  the  conversation  had  resolved  itself 
into  words,  which,  on  the  soldier's  part,  were  of  the 
nature  of  commands,  tempered  by  pity,  and  were  a  mere 
series  of  entreaties  on  hers. 

The  whole  scene  did  not  last  ten  minutes.  When  it 
was  over,  the  trumpet-major  walked  from  the  doorway 
where  they  had  been  standing,  and  brushed  moisture  from 
his  eyes.  Reaching  a  dark  lumber-room,  he  stood  still 
there  to  calm  himself,  and  then  descended  by  a  Flemish- 
ladder  to  the  bakehouse,  instead  of  by  the  front  stairs. 
He  found  that  the  others,  including  Bob,  had  gathered  in 
the  parlour  during  his  absence  and  lighted  the  candles. 

Miss  Johnson,  having  sent  down  some  time  before 
John  re-entered  the  house  to  say  that  she  would  prefer 
to  keep  her  room  that  evening,  was  not  expected  to  join 
them,  and  on  this  account  Bob  showed  less  than  his 
customary  liveliness.  The  miller  wishing  to  keep  up 
his  son's  spirits,  expressed  his  regret  that,  it  being  Sunday 
night,  they  could  have  no  songs  to  make  the  evening 
cheerful  •  when  Mrs.  Garland  proposed  that  they  should 
sing  psalms  which,  by  choosing  lively  tunes  and  not 
thinking  of  the  words,  would  be  almost  as  good  as 
ballads. 

This  they  did,  the  trumpet-major  appearing  to  join 
in  with  the  rest ;  but  as  a  matter  of  fact  no  sound  came 
from  his  moving  lips.  His  mind  was  in  such  a  state 
that  he  derived  no  pleasure  even  from  Anne  Garland's 
presence,  though  he  held  a  corner  of  the  same  book 
with  her,  and  was  treated  in  a  winsome  way  which  it 
was  not  her  usual  practice  to  indulge  in.  She  saw  that 
his  mind  was  clouded,  and,  far  from  guessing  the  reason 
why,  was  doing  her  best  to  clear  it. 

At  length  the  Garlands  found  that  it  was  the  hour 
for  them  to  leave,  and  John  Loveday  at  the  same  time 
159 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

wished  his  father  and  Bob  good-night,  and  went  as  far 
as  Mrs.  Garland's  door  with  her. 

He  had  said  not  a  word  to  show  that  he  was  free  to 
remain  out  of  camp,  for  the  reason  that  there  was  painful 
work  to  be  done,  which  it  would  be  best  to  do  in  secret 
and  alone.  He  lingered  near  the  house  till  its  reflected 
window-lights  ceased  to  glimmer  upon  the  mill-pond, 
and  all  within  the  dwelling  was  dark  and  still.  Then 
he  entered  the  garden  and  waited  there  till  the  back 
door  opened,  and  a  woman's  figure  timorously  came  for- 
ward. John  Loveday  at  once  went  up  to  her,  and  they 
began  to  talk  in  low  yet  dissentient  tones. 

They  had  conversed  about  ten  minutes,  and  were 
parting  as  if  they  had  come  to  some  painful  arrangement, 
Miss  Johnson  sobbing  bitterly,  when  a  head  stealthily 
arose  above  the  dense  hedgerow,  and  in  a  moment  a 
shout  burst  from  its  owner. 

'  Thieves  !  thieves  ! — my  tin  box  ! — thieves  !  thieves  ! ' 

Matilda  vanished  into  the  house,  and  John  Loveday 
hastened  to  the  hedge.  '  For  heaven's  sake,  hold  your 
tongue,  Mr.  Derriman  ! '  he  exclaimed. 

*  My  tin  box ! '  said  Uncle  Benjy.  '  O,  only  the 
trumpet-major ! ' 

'  Your  box  is  safe  enough,  I  assure  you.  It  was 
only ' — here  the  trumpet-major  gave  vent  to  an  artificial 
laugh — '  only  a  sly  bit  of  courting,  you  know.' 

'  Ha,  ha,  I  see ! '  said  the  relieved  old  squireen. 
f  Courting  Miss  Anne  !  Then  you've  ousted  my  nephew, 
trumpet-major !  Well,  so  much  the  better.  As  for  my- 
self, the  truth  on't  is  that  I  haven't  been  able  to  go  to 
bed  easy,  for  thinking  that  possibly  your  father  might 
not  take  care  of  what  I  put  under  his  charge ;  and  at 
last  I  thought  I  would  just  step  over  and  see  if  all  was 
safe  here  before  I  turned  in.  And  when  I  saw  your  two 
shapes  my  poor  nerves  magnified  ye  to  housebreakers, 
and  Boneys,  and  I  don't  know  what  all.' 

'You  have  alarmed  the  house,'  said  the  trumpet- 
160 


THE   TRUMPET-MAJOR 

major,  hearing  the  clicking  of  flint  and  steel  in  his 
father's  bedroom,  followed  in  a  moment  by  the  rise  of 
a  light  in  the  window  of  the  same  apartment.  'You 
have  got  me  into  difficulty,'  he  added  gloomily,  as  his 
father  opened  the  casement. 

'  I  am  sorry  for  that,'  said  Uncle  Benjy.  « But  step 
back ;  I'll  put  it  all  right  again.' 

'  What,  for  heaven's  sake,  is  the  matter  ? '  said  the 
miller,  his  tasselled  nightcap  appearing  in  the  opening. 

'  Nothing,  nothing  ! '  said  the  farmer.  '  I  was  uneasy 
about  my  few  bonds  and  documents,  and  I  walked  this 
way,  miller,  before  going  to  bed,  as  I  start  from  home 
to-morrow  morning.  When  I  came  down  by  your 
garden-hedge,  I  thought  I  saw  thieves,  but  it  turned 
out  to  be — to  be ' 

Here  a  lump  of  earth  from  the  trumpet-major's  hand 
struck  Uncle  Benjy  in  the  back  as  a  reminder. 

*  To  be — the  bough  of  a  cherry-tree  a- waving  in  the 
wind.  Good-night.' 

'  No  thieves  are  like  to  try  my  house/  said  Miller 
Loveday.  '  Now  don't  you  come  alarming  us  like  this 
again,  farmer,  or  you  shall  keep  your  box  yourself,  begging 
your  pardon  for  saying  so.  Good-night  t'  ye  ! ' 

'  Miller,,  will  ye  just  look,  since  I  am  here — just  look 
and  see  if  the  box  is  all  right  ?  there's  a  good  man  !  I 
am  old,  you  know,  and  my  poor  remains  are  not  what 
my  original  self  was.  Look  and  see  if  it  is  where  you 
put  it,  there's  a  good,  kind  man.' 

'  Very  well,'  said  the  miller  good-humouredly. 

'  Neighbour  Loveday !  on  second  thoughts  I  will  take 
my  box  home  again,  after  all,  if  you  don't  mind.  You 
won't  deem  it  ill  of  me  ?  I  have  no  suspicion,  of  course ; 
but  now  I  think  on't  there's  rivalry  between  my  nephew 
and  your  son ;  and  if  Festus  should  take  it  into  his  head 
to  set  your  house  on  fire  in  his  enmity,  'twould  be  bad 
for  my  deeds  and  documents.  No  offence,  miller,  but 
I'll  take  the  box,  if  you  don't  mind.' 

161  L 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

'Faith!  I  don't  mind,'  said  Loveday.  'But  your 
nephew  had  better  think  twice  before  he  lets  his  enmity 
take  that  colour.'  Receding  from  the  window,  he  took 
the  candle  to  a  back  part  of  the  room  and  soon  re- 
appeared with  the  tin  box. 

'  I  won't  trouble  ye  to  dress/  said  Derriman  consi- 
derately ;  '  let  en  down  by  anything  you  have  at  hand.' 

The  box  was  lowered  by  a  cord,  and  the  old  man 
clasped  it  in  his  arms.  '  Thank  ye  ! '  he  said  with  heart- 
felt gratitude.  '  Good-night ! ' 

The  miller  replied  and  closed  the  window,  and  the 
light  went  out. 

'  There,  now  I  hope  you  are  satisfied,  sir  ? '  said  the 
trumpet-major. 

'  Quite,  quite  ! '  said  Derriman  ;  and,  leaning  on  his 
walking-stick,  he  pursued  his  lonely  way. 

That  night  Anne  lay  awake  in  her  bed,  musing  on 
the  traits  of  the  new  friend  who  had  come  to  her 
neighbour's  house.  She  would  not  be  critical,  it  was 
ungenerous  and  wrong ;  but  she  could  not  help  thinking 
of  what  interested  her.  And  were  there,  she  silently 
asked,  in  Miss  Johnson's  mind  and  person  such  rare 
qualities  as  placed  that  lady  altogether  beyond  com- 
parison with  herself?  O  yes,  there  must  be;  for  had 
not  Captain  Bob  singled  out  Matilda  from  among  all 
other  women,  herself  included  ?  Of  course,  with  his 
world-wide  experience,  he  knew  best. 

When  the  moon  had  set,  and  only  the  summer  stars 
threw  their  light  into  the  great  damp  garden,  she  fancied 
that  she  heard  voices  in  that  direction.  Perhaps  they 
were  the  voices  of  Bob  and  Matilda  taking  a  lover's 
walk  before  retiring.  If  so,  how  sleepy  they  would  be 
next  day,  and  how  absurd  it  was  of  Matilda  to  pretend 
she  was  tired  !  Ruminating  in  this  way,  and  saying  to 
herself  that  she  hoped  they  would  be  happy,  Anne 
fell  asleep. 

162 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 


MISS  JOHNSON'S  BEHAVIOUR 
CA  USES  NO  LITTLE  SURPRISE 

XIX 

PARTLY  from  the  excitement  of  having  his  Matilda 
under  the  paternal  roof,  Bob  rose  next  morning  as 
early  as  his  father  and  the  grinder,  and,  when  the  big 
wheel  began  to  patter  and  the  little  ones  to  mumble  in  re- 
sponse, went  to  sun  himself  outside  the  mill-front,  among 
the  fowls  of  brown  and  speckled  kinds  which  haunted 
that  spot,  and  the  ducks  that  came  up  from  the  mill-tail. 

Standing  on  the  worn-out  mill-stone  inlaid  in  the 
gravel,  he  talked  with  his  father  on  various  improve- 
ments of  the  premises,  and  on  the  proposed  arrange- 
ments for  his  permanent  residence  there,  with  an 
enjoyment  that  was  half  based  upon  this  prospect  of 
the  future,  and  half  on  the  penetrating  warmth  of  the 
sun  to  his  back  and  shoulders.  Then  the  different 
troops  of  horses  began  their  morning  scramble  down  to 
the  mill-pond,  and,  after  making  it  very  muddy  round 
the  edge,  ascended  the  slope  again.  The  bustle  of  the 
camp  grew  more  and  more  audible,  and  presently  David 
came  to  say  that  breakfast  was  ready. 

'  Is  Miss  Johnson  downstairs  ?  '  said  the  miller ;  and 
Bob  listened  for  the  answer,  looking  at  a  blue  sentinel 
aloft  on  the  down. 

163 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

'  Not  yet,  maister,'  said  the  excellent  David. 

1  We'll  wait  till  she's  down,'  said  Loveday.  When 
she  is,  let  us  know.' 

David  went  indoors  again,  and  Loveday  and  Bob 
continued  their  morning  survey  by  ascending  into  the 
mysterious  quivering  recesses  of  the  mill,  and  holding 
a  discussion  over  a  second  pair  of  burr-stones,  which 
had  to  be  re-dressed  before  they  could  be  used  again. 
This  and  similar  things  occupied  nearly  twenty  minutes, 
and,  looking  from  the  window,  the  elder  of  the  two 
was  reminded  of  the  time  of  day  by  seeing  Mrs.  Gar- 
land's table-cloth  fluttering  from  her  back  door  over 
the  heads  of  a  flock  of  pigeons  that  had  alighted  for 
the  crumbs. 

*  I  suppose  David  can't  find  us,'  he  said,  with  a 
sense  of  hunger  that  was  not  altogether  strange  to  Bob. 
He  put  out  his  head  and  shouted. 

'  The  lady  is  not  down  yet,'  said  his  man  in  reply. 

'  No  hurry,  no  hurry,'  said  the  miller,  with  cheerful 
emptiness.  *  Bob,  to  pass  the  time  we'll  look  into  the 
garden.' 

1  She'll  get  up  sooner  than  this,  you  know,  when 
she's  signed  articles  and  got  a  berth  here,'  Bob  observed 
apologetically. 

'  Yes,  yes,'  said  Loveday ;  and  they  descended  into 
the  garden. 

Here  they  turned  over  sundry  flat  stones  and  killed 
the  slugs  sheltered  beneath  them  from  the  coming  heat 
of  the  day,  talking  of  slugs  in  all  their  branches — of  the 
brown  and  the  black,  of  the  tough  and  the  tender,  of 
the  reason  why  there  were  so  many  in  the  garden  that 
year,  of  the  coming  time  when  the  grass-walks  harbour- 
ing them  were  to  be  taken  up  and  gravel  laid,  and  of 
the  relatively  exterminatory  merits  of  a  pair  of  scissors 
and  the  heel  of  the  shoe.  At  last  the  miller  said, 
'  Well,  really,  Bob,  I'm  hungry ;  we  must  begin  with- 
out her.' 

164 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

They  were  about  to  go  in,  when  David  appeared 
with  haste  in  his  motions,  his  eyes  wider  vertically  than 
crosswise,  and  his  cheeks  nearly  all  gone. 

'  Maister,  I've  been  to  call  her ;  and  as  'a  didn't 
speak  I  rapped,  and  as  'a  didn't  answer  I  kicked,  and 
not  being  latched  the  door  opened,  and — she's  gone  ! ' 

Bob  went  off  like  a  swallow  towards  the  house,  and 
the  miller  followed  like  the  rather  heavy  man  that  he 
was.  That  Miss  Matilda  was  not  in  her  room,  or  a 
scrap  of  anything  belonging  to  her,  was  soon  apparent. 
They  searched  every  place  in  which  she  could  possibly 
hide  or  squeeze  herself,  every  place  in  which  she  could 
not,  but  found  nothing  at  all. 

Captain  Bob  was  quite  wild  with  astonishment  and 
grief.  When  he  was  quite  sure  that  she  was  nowhere 
in  his  father's  house,  he  ran  into  Mrs.  Garland's,  and 
telling  them  the  story  so  hastily  that  they  hardly  under- 
stood the  particulars,  he  went  on  towards  Comfort's 
house,  intending  to  raise  the  alarm  there,  and  also  at 
Mitchell's,  Beach's,  Cripplestraw's,  the  parson's,  the 
clerk's,  the  camp  of  dragoons,  of  hussars,  and  so  on 
through  the  whole  county.  But  he  paused,  and  thought 
it  would  be  hardly  expedient  to  publish  his  discom- 
fiture in  such  a  way.  If  Matilda  had  left  the  house 
for  any  freakish  reason  he  would  not  care  to  look  for 
her,  and  if  her  deed  had  a  tragic  intent  she  would 
keep  aloof  from  camp  and  village. 

In  his  trouble  he  thought  of  Anne.  She  was  a  nice 
girl  and  could  be  trusted.  To  her  he  went,  and  found 
her  in  a  state  of  excitement  and  anxiety  which  equalled 
his  own. 

'  'Tis  so  lonely  to  cruise  for  her  all  by  myself ! '  said 
Bob  disconsolately,  his  forehead  all  in  wrinkles;  'and 
I've  thought  you  would  come  with  me  and  cheer  the 
way? ' 

'  Where  shall  we  search  ? '  said  Anne. 

'  O,  in  the  holes  of  rivers,  you  know,  and  down  wells, 
165 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

and  in  quarries,  and  over  cliffs,  and  like  that.  Your 
eyes  might  catch  the  loom  of  any  bit  of  a  shawl  or  bonnet 
that  I  should  overlook,  and  it  would  do  me  a  real  service. 
Please  do  come  ! ' 

So  Anne  took  pity  upon  him,  and  put  on  her  hat  and 
went,  the  miller  and  David  having  gone  off  in  another 
direction.  They  examined  the  ditches  of  fields,  Bob 
going  round  by  one  fence  and  Anne  by  the  other,  till 
they  met  at  the  opposite  side.  Then  they  peeped  under 
culverts,  into  outhouses,  and  down  old  wells  and  quarries, 
till  the  theory  of  a  tragical  end  had  nearly  spent  its  force 
in  Bob's  mind,  and  he  began  to  think  that  Matilda  had 
simply  run  away.  However,  they  still  walked  on,  though 
by  this  time  the  sun  was  hot  and  Anne  would  gladly 
have  sat  down. 

'  Now,  didn't  you  think  highly  of  her,  Miss  Garland  ?  ' 
he  inquired,  as  the  search  began  to  languish. 

'  O  yes,'  said  Anne ;   '  very  highly.' 

1  She  was  really  beautiful ;  no  nonsense  about  her 
looks,  was  there  ?  ' 

'  None.  Her  beauty  was  thoroughly  ripe — not  too 
young.  We  should  all  have  got  to  love  her.  What  can 
have  possessed  her  to  go  away  ? ' 

'I  don't  know,  and,  upon  my  life,  I  shall  soon  be 
drove  to  say  I  don't  care ! '  replied  the  mate  despair- 
ingly. 'Let  me  pilot  ye  down  over  those  stones,'  he 
added,  as  Anne  began  to  descend  a  rugged  quarry.  He 
stepped  forward,  leapt  down,  and  turned  to  her. 

She  gave  him  her  hand  and  sprang  down.  Before  he 
relinquished  his  hold,  Captain  Bob  raised  her  fingers  to 
his  lips  and  kissed  them. 

*•  O,  Captain  Loveday ! '  cried  Anne,  snatching  away 
her  hand  in  genuine  dismay,  while  a  tear  rose  unex- 
pectedly to  each  eye.  'I  never  heard  of  such  a  thing! 
I  won't  go  an  inch  further  with  you,  sir ;  it  is  too  bare- 
faced ! '  And  she  turned  and  ran  off. 

*  Upon  my  life  I  didn't  mean  it ! '  said  the  repentant 
166 


THE   TRUMPET- MAJOR 

captain,  hastening  after.  '  I  do  love  her  best — indeed  I 
do — and  I  don't  love  you  at  all !  I  am  not  so  fickle  as 
that !  I  merely  just  for  the  moment  admired  you  as  a 
sweet  little  craft,  and  that's  how  I  came  to  do  it.  You 
know,  Miss  Garland,'  he  continued  earnestly,  and  still 
running  after,  '  'tis  like  this :  when  you  come  ashore 
after  having  been  shut  up  in  a  ship  for  eighteen  months, 
women-folks  seem  so  new  and  nice  that  you  can't  help 
liking  them,  one  and  all  in  a  body;  and  so  your  heart 
is  apt  to  get  scattered  and  to  yaw  a  bit ;  but  of  course  I 
think  of  poor  Matilda  most,  and  shall  always  stick  to 
her.'  He  heaved  a  sigh  of  tremendous  magnitude,  to 
show  beyond  the  possibility  of  doubt  that  his  heart  was 
still  in  the  place  that  honour  required. 

'  I  am  glad  to  hear  that — of  course  I  am  very  glad ! ' 
said  she,  with  quick  petulance,  keeping  her  face  turned 
from  him.  '  And  I  hope  we  shall  find  her,  and  that  the 
wedding  will  not  be  put  off,  and  that  you'll  both  be 
happy.  But  I  won't  look  for  her  any  more  !  No ;  I 
don't  care  to  look  for  her — and  my  head  aches.  I  am 
going  home ! ' 

*  And  so  am  I,'  said  Robert  promptly. 

'  No,  no ;  go  on  looking  for  her,  of  course — all  the 
afternoon,  and  all  night.  I  am  sure  you  will,  if  you 
love  her.' 

'O  yes;  I  mean  to.  Still,  I  ought  to  convoy  you 
home  first  ? ' 

*  No,  you  ought  not ;  and   I   shall  not  accept  your 
company.    Good-morning,  sir  ! '     And  she  went  off  over 
one  of  the  stone  stiles  with  which  the  spot  abounded, 
leaving  the  friendly  sailor  standing  in  the  field. 

He  sighed  again,  and,  observing  the  camp  not  far  off, 
thought  he  would  go  to  his  brother  John  and  ask  him 
his  opinion  on  the  sorrowful  case.  On  reaching  the 
tents  he  found  that  John  was  not  at  liberty  just  at  that 
time,  being  engaged  in  practising  the  trumpeters ;  and 
leaving  word  that  he  wished  the  trumpet-major  to  come, 

!67 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

down  to  the  mill  as  soon  as  possible,  Bob  went  back 
again. 

'  'Tis  no  good  looking  for  her,'  he  said  gloomily. 
'  She  liked  me  well  enough,  but  when  she  came  here  and 
saw  the  house,  and  the  place,  and  the  old  horse,  and  the 
plain  furniture,  she  was  disappointed  to  find  us  all  so 
homely,  and  felt  she  didn't  care  to  marry  into  such  a 
family ! ' 

His  father  and  David  had  returned  with  no  news. 
'  Yes,  'tis  as  I've  been  thinking,  father,'  Bob  said.  '  We 
weren't  good  enough  for  her,  and  she  went  away  in 
scorn !  ' 

1  Well,  that  can't  be  helped,'  said  the  miller.  '  What 
we  be,  we  be,  and  have  been  for  generations.  To  my 
mind  she  seemed  glad  enough  to  get  hold  of  us  ! ' 

1  Yes,  yes — for  the  moment — because  of  the  flowers, 
and  birds,  and  what's  pretty  in  the  place,'  said  Bob 
tragically.  '  But  you  don't  know,  father — how  should 
you  know,  who  have  hardly  been  out  of  Overcombe  in 
your  life  ? — you  don't  know  what  delicate  feelings  are  in 
a  real  refined  woman's  mind.  Any  little  vulgar  action 
unreaves  their  nerves  like  a  marline-spike.  Now  I 
wonder  if  you  did  anything  to  disgust  her  ?  ' 

*  Faith  !  not  that  I  know  of,'  said  Loveday,  reflecting. 
1 1  didn't  say  a  single  thing  that  I  should  naturally  have 
said,  on  purpose  to  give  no  offence.' 

'  You  was  always  very  homely,  you  know,  father.' 

*  Yes ;  so  I  was,'  said  the  miller  meekly. 

'  I  wonder  what  it  could  have  been,'  Bob  continued, 
wandering  about  restlessly.  'You  didn't  go  drinking 
out  of  the  big  mug  with  your  mouth  full,  or  wipe  your 
lips  with  your  sleeve  ?  ' 

'That  I'll  swear  I  didn't!'  said  the  miller  firmly. 
'Thinks  I,  there's  no  knowing  what  I  may  do  to 
shock  her,  so  I'll  take  my  solid  victuals  in  the  bake- 
house, and  only  a  crumb  and  a  drop  in  her  company 
for  manners.' 

168 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

( You  could  do  no  more  than  that,  certainly,'  said 
Bob  gently. 

*  If  my  manners  be  good  enough  for  well-brought-up 
people  like  the  Garlands,  they  be  good  enough  for  her,' 
continued  the  miller,  with  a  sense  of  injustice. 

*  That's    true.      Then    it    must   have    been    David. 
David,  come  here !     How  did  you  behave  before  that 
lady  ?     Now,  mind  you  speak  the  truth  ! ' 

'  Yes,  Mr.  Captain  Robert,'  said  David  earnestly.  '  I 
assure  ye  she  was  served  like  a  royal  queen.  The  best 
silver  spoons  wez  put  down,  and  yer  poor  grandfer's 
silver  tanket,  as  you  seed,  and  the  feather  cushion  for 
her  to  sit  on ' 

'  Now  I've  got  it ! '  said  Bob  decisively,  bringing 
down  his  hand  upon  the  window-sill.  '  Her  bed  was 
hard  ! — and  there's  nothing  shocks  a  true  lady  like  that. 
The  bed  in  that  room  always  was  as  hard  as  the  Rock 
of  Gibraltar ! ' 

1  No,  Captain  Bob  !  The  beds  were  changed — wasn't 
they,  maister  ?  We  put  the  goose  bed  in  her  room,  and 
the  flock  one,  that  used  to  be  there,  in  yours.' 

'  Yes,  we  did,'  corroborated  the  miller.  '  David  and 
I  changed  'em  with  our  own  hands,  because  they  were 
too  heavy  for  the  women  to  move.' 

c  Sure  I  didn't  know  I  had  the  flock  bed,'  murmured 
Bob.  '  I  slept  on,  little  thinking  what  I  was  going  to 
wake  to.  Well,  well,  she's  gone ;  and  search  as  I  will 
I  shall  never  find  another  like  her !  She  was  too  good 
for  me.  She  must  have  carried  her  box  with  her  own 
hands,  poor  girl.  As  far  as  that  goes,  I  could  overtake 
her  even  now,  I  dare  say;  but  I  won't  entreat  her 
against  her  will — not  I.' 

Miller  Loveday  and  David,  feeling  themselves  to  be 
rather  a  desecration  in  the  presence  of  Bob's  sacred 
emotions,  managed  to  edge  off  by  degrees,  the  former 
burying  himself  in  the  most  floury  recesses  of  the  mill, 
his  invariable  resource  when  perturbed,  the  rumbling 
169 


THE   TRUMPET  MAJOR 

having  a  soothing  effect  upon  the  nerves  of  those 
properly  trained  to  its  music. 

-•  Bob  was  so  impatient  that,  after  going  up  to  her 
room  to  assure  himself  once  more  that  she  had  not 
undressed,  but  had  only  lain  down  on  the  outside  of 
the  bed,  he  went  out  of  the  house  to  meet  John,  and 
waited  on  the  sunny  slope  of  the  down  till  his  brother 
appeared.  John  looked  so  brave  and  shapely  and 
warlike  that,  even  in  Bob's  present  distress,  he  could 
not  but  feel  an  honest  and  affectionate  pride  at  owning 
such  a  relative.  Yet  he  fancied  that  John  did  not 
come  along  with  the  same  swinging  step  he  had  shown 
yesterday;  and  when  the  trumpet-major  got  nearer  he 
looked  anxiously  at  the  mate  and  waited  for  him  to 
speak  first. 

'  You  know  our  great  trouble,  John  ? '  said  Robert, 
gazing  stoically  into  his  brother's  eyes. 

'Come  and  sit  down,  and  tell  me  all  about  it,' 
answered  the  trumpet-major,  showing  no  surprise. 

They  went  towards  a  slight  ravine,  where  it  was 
easier  to  sit  down  than  on  the  flat  ground,  and  here 
John  reclined  among  the  grasshoppers,  pointing  to  his 
brother  to  do  the  same. 

'  But  do  you  know  what  it  is  ? '  said  Robert.  *  Has 
anybody  told  ye  ?  ' 

'  I  do  know,'  said  John.  '  She's  gone ;  and  I  am 
thankful ! ' 

'  What ! '  said  Bob,  rising  to  his  knees  in  amazement. 

'I'm  at  the  bottom  of  it,'  said  the  trumpet-major 
slowly. 

'You,  John?' 

'Yes;  and  if  you  will  listen  I'll  tell  you  all.  Do 
you  remember  what  happened  when  I  came  into  the  room 
last  night  ?  Why,  she  turned  colour  and  nearly  fainted 
away.  That  was  because  she  knew  me.' 

Bob  stared  at  his  brother  with  a  face  of  pain  and 
distrust. 

170 


THE   TRUMPET-MAJOR 

'  For  once,  Bob,  I  must  say  something  that  will 
hurt  thee  a  good  deal,'  continued  John.  '  She  was  not 
a  woman  who  could  possibly  be  your  wife — and  so  she's 
gone.' 

1  You  sent  her  off?  ' 

'  Well,  I  did.' 

'John  ! — Tell  me  right  through — tell  me  ! ' 

'  Perhaps  I  had  better,'  said  the  trumpet-major,  his 
blue  eyes  resting  on  the  far  distant  sea,  that  seemed  to 
rise  like  a  wall  as  high  as  the  hill  they  sat  upon. 

And  then  he  told  a  tale  of  Miss  Johnson  and  the 
— th  Dragoons  which  wrung  his  heart  as  much  in  the 
telling  as  it  did  Bob's  to  hear,  and  which  showed  that 
John  had  been  temporarily  cruel  to  be  ultimately  kind. 
Even  Bob,  excited  as  he  was,  could  discern  from  John's 
manner  of  speaking  what  a  terrible  undertaking  that 
night's  business  had  been  for  him.  To  justify  the 
course  he  had  adopted  the  dictates  of  duty  must  have 
been  imperative ;  but  the  trumpet-major,  with  a  becom- 
ing reticence  which  his  brother  at  the  time  was  naturally 
unable  to  appreciate,  scarcely  dwelt  distinctly  enough 
upon  the  compelling  cause  of  his  conduct.  It  would, 
indeed,  have  been  hard  for  any  man,  much  less  so 
modest  a  one  as  John,  to  do  himself  justice  in  that 
remarkable  relation,  when  the  listener  was  the  lady's 
lover ;  and  it  is  no  wonder  that  Robert  rose  to  his  feet 
and  put  a  greater  distance  between  himself  and  John. 

'  And  what  time  was  it  ? '  he  asked  in  a  hard,  sup- 
pressed voice. 

1  It  was  just  before  one  o'clock.' 

'  How  could  you  help  her  to  go  away  ? ' 

'  I  had  a  pass.  I  carried  her  box  to  the  coach-office. 
She  was  to  follow  at  dawn.' 

'  But  she  had  no  money.' 

'  Yes,  she  had ;  I  took  particular  care  of  that.'  John 
did  not  add,  as  he  might  have  done,  that  he  had  given 
her,  in  his  pity,  all  the  money  he  possessed,  and  at 
171 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

present  had  only  eighteenpence  in  the  world.  '  Well,  it 
is  over,  Bob ;  so  sit  ye  down,  and  talk  with  me  of  old 
times/  he  added. 

'  Ah,  Jack,  it  is  well  enough  for  you  to  speak  like 
that,'  said  the  disquieted  sailor  ;  '  but  I  can't  help  feeling 
that  it  is  a  cruel  thing  you  have  done.  After  all,  she 
would  have  been  snug  enough  for  me.  Would  I  had 
never  found  out  this  about  her !  John,  why  did  you 
interfere  ?  You  had  no  right  to  overhaul  my  affairs  like 
this.  Why  didn't  you  tell  me  fairly  all  you  knew,  and 
let  me  do  as  I  chose  ?  You  have  turned  her  out  of  the 
house,  and  it's  a  shame  !  If  she  had  only  come  to  me ! 
Why  didn't  she?' 

*  Because  she  knew  it  was  best  to  do  otherwise.' 

'  Well,  I  shall  go  after  her,'  said  Bob  firmly. 

4  You  can  do  as  you  like,'  said  John ;  '  but  I  would 
advise  you  strongly  to  leave  matters  where  they  are.' 

'  I  won't  leave  matters  where  they  are,'  said  Bob 
impetuously.  '  You  have  made  me  miserable,  and  all 
for  nothing.  I  tell  you  she  was  good  enough  for  me ; 
and  as  long  as  I  knew  nothing  about  what  you  say  of 
her  history,  what  difference  would  it  have  made  to  me  ? 
Never  was  there  a  young  woman  who  was  better  com- 
pany; and  she  loved  a  merry  song  as  I  do  myself. 
Yes,  I'll  follow  her.' 

<  O,  Bob,'  said  John ;  <  I  hardly  expected  this  ! ' 

'  That's  because  you  didn't  know  your  man.  Can  I 
ask  you  to  do  me  one  kindness  ?  I  don't  suppose  I 
can.  Can  I  ask  you  not  to  say  a  word  against  her  to 
any  of  them  at  home  ? ' 

'  Certainly.  The  very  reason  why  I  got  her  to  go  off 
silently,  as  she  has  done,  was  because  nothing  should 
be  said  against  her  here,  and  no  scandal  should  be 
heard  of/ 

'That  may  be;  but  I'm  off  after  her.  Marry  that 
girl  I  will.' 

1  You'll  be  sorry.' 

172 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

'  That  we  shall  see,'  replied  Robert  with  determina- 
tion ;  and  he  went  away  rapidly  towards  the  mill.  The 
trumpet-major  had  no  heart  to  follow — no  good  could 
possibly  come  of  further  opposition ;  and  there  on  the 
down  he  remained  like  a  graven  image  till  Bob  had 
vanished  from  his  sight  into  the  mill. 

Bob  entered  his  father's  only  to  leave  word  that  he 
was  going  on  a  renewed  search  for  Matilda,  and  to  pack 
up  a  few  necessaries  for  his  journey.  Ten  minutes 
later  he  came  out  again  with  a  bundle  in  his  hand,  and 
John  saw  him  go  diagonally  across  the  lower  fields 
towards  the  high-road. 

1  And  this  is  all  the  good  I  have  done ! '  said  John, 
musingly  readjusting  his  stock  where  it  cut  his  neck, 
and  descending  towards  the  mill. 


THE   TRUMPET-MAJOR 


HO IV  THEY  LESSENED 
THE  EFFECT 

OF  THE  CALAMITY 

XX 

MEANWHILE  Anne  Garland  had  gone  home,  and, 
being  weary  with  her  ramble  in  search  of  Matilda,  sat 
silent  in  a  corner  of  the  room.  Her  mother  was  pass- 
ing the  time  in  giving  utterance  to  every  conceivable 
surmise  on  the  cause  of  Miss  Johnson's  disappearance 
that  the  human  mind  could  frame,  to  which  Anne 
returned  monosyllabic  answers,  the  result,  not  of  in- 
difference, but  of  intense  preoccupation.  Presently 
Loveday,  the  father,  came  to  the  door;  her  mother 
vanished  with  him,  and  they  remained  closeted  together 
a  long  time.  Anne  went  into  the  garden  and  seated 
herself  beneath  the  branching  tree  whose  boughs  had 
sheltered  her  during  so  many  hours  of  her  residence 
here.  Her  attention  was  fixed  more  upon  the  miller's 
wing  of  the  irregular  building  before  her  than  upon  that 
occupied  by  her  mother,  for  she  could  not  help  ex- 
pecting every  moment  to  see  some  one  run  out  with  a 
wild  face  and  announce  some  awful  clearing  up  of  the 
mystery. 

Every  sound  set  her  on  the  alert,  and  hearing  the 
tread  of  a  horse  in  the  lane  she  looked  round  eagerly. 
Gazing  at  her  over  the  hedge  was  Festus  Derriman, 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

mounted  on  such  an  incredibly  tall  animal  that  he 
could  see  to  her  very  feet  over  the  thick  and  broad 
thorn  fence.  She  no  sooner  recognized  him  than  she 
withdrew  her  glance ;  but  as  his  eyes  were  fixed  steadily 
upon  her  this  was  a  futile  manoeuvre. 

'  I  saw  you  look  round ! '  he  exclaimed  crossly. 
'  What  have  I  done  to  make  you  behave  like  that  ?  Come, 
Miss  Garland,  be  fair.  Tis  no  use  to  turn  your  back 
upon  me.'  As  she  did  not  turn  he  went  on — '  Well, 
now,  this  is  enough  to  provoke  a  saint.  Now  I  tell  you 
what,  Miss  Garland ;  here  I'll  stay  till  you  do  turn  round, 
if  'tis  all  the  afternoon.  You  know  my  temper — what  I 
say  I  mean.'  He  seated  himself  firmly  in  the  saddle, 
plucked  some  leaves  from  the  hedge,  and  began  humming 
a  song,  to  show  how  absolutely  indifferent  he  was  to  the 
flight  of  time. 

'  What  have  you  come  for,  that  you  are  so  anxious  to 
see  me  ? '  inquired  Anne,  when  at  last  he  had  wearied 
her  patience,  rising  and  facing  him  with  the  added  inde- 
pendence which  came  from  a  sense  of  the  hedge  between 
them. 

'  There,  I  knew  you  would  turn  round  ! '  he  said,  his 
hot  angry  face  invaded  by  a  smile  in  which  his  teeth 
showed  like  white  hemmed  in  by  red  at  chess. 

'  What  do  you  want,  Mr.  Derriman  ? '  said  she. 

'  "  What  do  you  want,  Mr.  Derriman  ?  " — now  listen 
to  that !  Is  that  my  encouragement  ?  ' 

Anne  bowed  superciliously,  and  moved  away. 

1 1  have  just  heard  news  that  explains  all  that,'  said 
the  giant,  eyeing  her  movements  with  somnolent  irasci- 
bility. «  My  uncle  has  been  letting  things  out.  He  was 
here  late  last  night,  and  he  saw  you.' 

*  Indeed  he  didn't,'  said  Anne. 

'  O,  now  !  He  saw  Trumpet-major  Loveday  courting 
somebody  like  you  in  that  garden  walk ;  and  when  he 
came  you  ran  indoors.' 

*  It  is  not  true,  and  I  wish  to  hear  no  more.' 

I7S 


THE   TRUMPET-MAJOR 

'  Upon  my  life,  he  said  so !  How  can  you  do  it, 
Miss  Garland,  when  I,  who  have  enough  money  to  buy 
up  all  the  Lovedays,  would  gladly  come  to  terms  with  ye  ? 
What  a  simpleton  you  must  be,  to  pass  me  over  for  him  ! 
There,  now  you  are  angry  because  I  said  simpleton ! — I 
didn't  mean  simpleton,  I  meant  misguided — misguided 
rosebud !  That's  it —  run  off,'  he  continued  in  a  raised 
voice,  as  Anne  made  towards  the  garden  door.  '  But  I'll 
have  you  yet.  Much  reason  you  have  to  be  too  proud 
to  stay  with  me.  But  it  won't  last  long ;  I  shall  marry 
you,  madam,  if  I  choose,  as  you'll  see.' 

When  he  was  quite  gone,  and  Anne  had  calmed  down 
from  the  not  altogether  unrelished  fear  and  excitement 
that  he  always  caused  her,  she  returned  to  her  seat  under 
the  tree,  and  began  to  wonder  what  Festus  Derriman's 
story  meant,  which,  from  the  earnestness  of  his  tone,  did 
not  seem  like  a  pure  invention.  It  suddenly  flashed 
upon  her  mind  that  she  herself  had  heard  voices  in  the 
garden,  and  that  the  persons  seen  by  Farmer  Derriman, 
of  whose  visit  and  reclamation  of  his  box  the  miller  had 
told  her,  might  have  been  Matilda  and  John  Loveday. 
She  further  recalled  the  strange  agitation  of  Miss  Johnson 
on  the  preceding  evening,  and  that  it  occurred  just  at  the 
entry  of  the  dragoon,  till  by  degrees  suspicion  amounted 
to  conviction  that  he  knew  more  than  any  one  else  sup- 
posed of  that  lady's  disappearance. 

It  was  just  at  this  time  that  the  trumpet-major  de- 
scended to  the  mill  after  his  talk  with  his  brother  on  the 
down.  As  fate  would  have  it,  instead  of  entering  the 
house  he  turned  aside  to  the  garden  and  walked  down 
that  pleasant  enclosure,  to  learn  if  he  were  likely  to  find 
in  the  other  half  of  it  the  woman  he  loved  so  well. 

Yes,  there  she  was,  sitting  on  the  seat  of  logs  that  he 
had  repaired  for  her,  under  the  apple-tree ;  but  she  was 
not  facing  in  his  direction.  He  walked  with  a  noisier 
tread,  he  coughed,  he  shook  a  bough,  he  did  everything, 
in  short,  but  the  one  thing  that  Festus  did  in  the  same 
176 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

circumstances — call  out  to  her.  He  would  not  have 
ventured  on  that  for  the  world.  Any  of  his  signs  would 
have  been  sufficient  to  attract  her  a  day  or  two  earlier ; 
now  she  would  not  turn.  At  last,  in  his  fond  anxiety, 
he  did  what  he  had  never  done  before  without  an  invita- 
tion, and  crossed  over  into  Mrs.  Garland's  half  of  the 
garden,  till  he  stood  before  her. 

When  she  could  not  escape  him  she  arose,  and,  saying 
'Good  afternoon,  trumpet-major,'  in  a  glacial  manner 
unusual  with  her,  walked  away  to  another  part  of  the 
garden. 

Loveday,  quite  at  a  loss,  had  not  the  strength  of  mind 
to  persevere  further.  He  had  a  vague  apprehension  that 
some  imperfect  knowledge  of  the  previous  night's  un- 
happy business  had  reached  her ;  and,  unable  to  remedy 
the  evil  without  telling  more  than  he  dared,  he  went  into 
the  mill,  where  his  father  still  was,  looking  doleful  enough, 
what  with  his  concern  at  events  and  the  extra  quantity 
of  flour  upon  his  face  through  sticking  so  closely  to 
business  that  day. 

'  Well,  John ;  Bob  has  told  you  all,  of  course  ?  A 
queer,  strange,  perplexing  thing,  isn't  it  ?  I  can't  make 
it  out  at  all.  There  must  be  something  wrong  in  the 
woman,  or  it  couldn't  have  happened.  I  haven't  been 
so  upset  for  years.' 

'  Nor  have  I.  I  wouldn't  it  should  have  happened 
for  all  I  own  in  the  world,'  said  the  dragoon.  '  Have  you 
spoke  to  Anne  Garland  to-day — or  has  anybody  been 
talking  to  her?' 

'  Festus  Derriman  rode  by  half-an-hour  ago,  and 
talked  to  her  over  the  hedge.' 

John  guessed  the  rest,  and,  after  standing  on  the 
threshold  in  silence  awhile,  walked  away  towards  the 
camp. 

All  this  time  his  brother  Robert  had  been  hastening 
along  in  pursuit  of  the  woman  who  had  withdrawn  from 
the  scene  to  avoid  the  exposure  and  complete  overthrow 
177  M 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

which  would  have  resulted  had  she  remained.  As  the 
distance  lengthened  between  himself  and  the  mill,  Bob 
was  conscious  of  some  cooling  down  of  the  excitement 
that  had  prompted  him  to  set  out ;  but  he  did  not  pause 
in  his  walk  till  he  had  reached  the  head  of  the  river  which 
fed  the  mill-stream.  Here,  for  some  indefinite  reason, 
he  allowed  his  eyes  to  be  attracted  by  the  bubbling  spring 
whose  waters  never  failed  or  lessened,  and  he  stopped  as 
if  to  look  longer  at  the  scene ;  it  was  really  because  his 
mind  was  so  absorbed  by  John's  story. 

The  sun  was  warm,  the  spot  was  a  pleasant  one,  and 
he  deposited  his  bundle  and  sat  down.  By  degrees,  as 
he  reflected,  first  on  John's  view  and  then  on  his  own, 
his  convictions  became  unsettled;  till  at  length  he  was 
so  balanced  between  the  impulse  to  go  on  and  the  impulse 
to  go  back,  that  a  puff  of  wind  either  way  would  have 
been  well-nigh  sufficient  to  decide  for  him.  When  he 
allowed  John's  story  to  repeat  itself  in  his  ears,  the  reason- 
ableness and  good  sense  of  his  advice  seemed  beyond 
question.  When,  on  the  other  hand,  he  thought  of  his 
poor  Matilda's  eyes,  and  her,  to  him,  pleasant  ways,  their 
charming  arrangements  to  marry,  and  her  probable  will- 
ingness still,  he  could  hardly  bring  himself  to  do  otherwise 
than  follow  on  the  road  at  the  top  of  his  speed. 

This  strife  of  thought  was  so  well  maintained  that 
sitting  and  standing,  he  remained  on  the  borders  of  the 
spring  till  the  shadows  had  stretched  out  eastwards,  and 
the  chance  of  overtaking  Matilda  had  grown  consider- 
ably less.  Still  he  did  not  positively  go  towards  home. 
At  last  he  took  a  guinea  from  his  pocket,  and  resolved 
to  put  the  question  to  the  hazard.  '  Heads  I  go ; 
tails  I  don't.'  The  piece  of  gold  spun  in  the  air  and 
came  down  heads. 

£  No,  I  won't  go,  after  all,'  he  said.  « I  won't  be 
steered  by  accidents  any  more.' 

He  picked  up  his  bundle  and  switch,  and  retraced 
his  steps  towards  Overcombe  Mill,  knocking  down  the 
178 


THE   TRUMPET-MAJOR 

brambles  and  nettles  as  he  went  with  gloomy  and  in- 
different blows.  When  he  got  within  sight  of  the  house 
he  beheld  David  in  the  road. 

'  All  right — all  right  again,  captain  ! '  shouted  that 
retainer.  '  A  wedding  after  all !  Hurrah  !  ' 

'  Ah — she's  back  again  ?  '  cried  Bob,  seizing  David, 
ecstatically,  and  dancing  round  with  him. 

'  No — but  it's  all  the  same  !  it  is  of  no  consequence 
at  all,  and  no  harm  will  be  done  !  Maister  and  Mrs. 
Garland  have  made  up  a  match,  and  mean  to  marry  at 
once,  that  the  wedding  victuals  may  not  be  wasted  ! 
They  felt  'twould  be  a  thousand  pities  to  let  such  good 
things  get  blue-vinnied  for  want  of  a  ceremony  to  use 
'em  upon,  and  at  last  they  have  thought  of  this.' 

*  Victuals — I  don't  care  for  the  victuals  !  '  bitterly 
cried  Bob,  in  a  tone  of  far  higher  thought.  «  How  you 
disappoint  me  !  '  and  he  went  slowly  towards  the  house. 

His  father  appeared  in  the  opening  of  the  mill-door, 
looking  more  cheerful  than  when  they  had  parted. 
'  What,  Robert,  you've  been  after  her  ? '  he  said. 
*  Faith,  then,  I  wouldn't  have  followed  her  if  I  had 
been  as  sure  as  you  were  that  she  went  away  in  scorn 
of  us.  Since  you  told  me  that,  I  have  not  looked  for 
her  at  all.' 

1 1  was  wrong,  father,'  Bob  replied  gravely,  throwing 
down  his  bundle  and  stick.  '  Matilda,  I  find,  has  not 
gone  away  in  scorn  of  us ;  she  has  gone  away  for  other 
reasons.  I  followed  her  some  way ;  but  I  have  come 
back  again.  She  may  go.' 

'  Why  is  she  gone  ?  '  said  the  astonished  miller. 

Bob  had  intended,  for  Matilda's  sake,  to  give  no 
reason  to  a  living  soul  for  her  departure.  But  he  could 
not  treat  his  father  thus  reservedly  ;  and  he  told. 

'  She  has  made  great  fools  of  us,'  said  the  miller 
deliberately ;  *  and  she  might  have  made  us  greater 
ones.  Bob,  I  thought  th'  hadst  more  sense.' 

'  Well,  don't  say  anything  against  her,  father,'  im- 
179 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

plored  Bob.  "Twas  a  sorry  haul,  and  there's  an  end 
on't.  Let  her  down  quietly,  and  keep  the  secret.  You 
promise  that  ?  ' 

'  I  do.'  Loveday  the  elder  remained  thinking 
awhile,  and  then  went  on — '  Well,  what  I  was  going 
to  say  is  this  :  I've  hit  upon  a  plan  to  get  out  of  the 
awkward  corner  she  has  put  us  in.  What  you'll  think 
of  it  I  can't  say.' 

1  David  has  just  given  me  the  heads.' 

'  And  do  it  hurt  your  feelings,  my  son,  at  such  a 
time  ? ' 

'  No — I'll  bring  myself  to  bear  it,  anyhow !  Why 
should  I  object  to  other  people's  happiness  because  I 
have  lost  my  own  ? '  said  Bob,  with  saintly  self-sacrifice 
in  his  air. 

'  Well  said  ! '  answered  the  miller  heartily.  <  But  you 
may  be  sure  that  there  will  be  no  unseemly  rejoicing,  to 
disturb  ye  in  your  present  frame  of  mind.  All  the 
morning  I  felt  more  ashamed  than  I  cared  to  own  at 
the  thought  of  how  the  neighbours,  great  and  small, 
would  laugh  at  what  they  would  call  your  folly,  when  they 
knew  what  had  happened ;  so  I  resolved  to  take  this 
step  to  stave  it  off,  if  so  be  'twas  possible.  And  when 
I  saw  Mrs.  Garland  I  knew  I  had  done  right.  She 
pitied  me  so  much  for  having  had  the  house  cleaned  in 
vain,  and  laid  in  provisions  to  waste,  that  it  put  her  into 
the  humour  to  agree.  We  mean  to  do  it  right  off  at 
once,  afore  the  pies  and  cakes  get  mouldy  and  the  black- 
pot  stale.  'Twas  a  good  thought  of  mine  and  hers,  and 
I  am  glad  'tis  settled,'  he  concluded  cheerfully. 

'  Poor  Matilda ! '  murmured  Bob. 

1  There — I  was  afraid  'twould  hurt  thy  feelings,'  said 
the  miller,  with  self-reproach :  '  making  preparations  for 
thy  wedding,  and  using  them  for  my  own  ! ' 

1  No,'  said  Bob  heroically ;  « it  shall  not.  It  will  be 
a  great  comfort  in  my  sorrow  to  feel  that  the  splendid 
grub,  and  the  ale,  and  your  stunning  new  suit  of  clothes, 
180 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

and  the  great  table-cloths  you've  bought,  will  be  just  as 
useful  now  as  if  I  had  married  myself.  Poor  Matilda  ! 
But  you  won't  expect  me  to  join  in — you  hardly  can.  I 
can  sheer  off  that  day  very  easily,  you  know.' 

'  Nonsense,  Bob  ! '  said  the  miller  reproachfully. 

'  I  couldn't  stand  it — I  should  break  down.' 

'  Deuce  take  me  if  I  would  have  asked  her,  then,  if  I 
had  known  'twas  going  to  drive  thee  out  of  the  house ! 
Now,  come,  Bob,  I'll  find  a  way  of  arranging  it  and 
sobering  it  down,  so  that  it  shall  be  as  melancholy  as 
you  can  require — in  short,  just  like  a  funeral,  if  thou'lt 
promise  to  stay  ? ' 

'Very  well/  said  the  afflicted  one.  'On  that  con- 
dition I'll  stay.' 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 


'  UPON  THE  HILL 

HE  TURNED' 

XXI 

HAVING  entered  into  this  solemn  compact  with  his 
son,  the  elder  Loveday's  next  action  was  to  go  to  Mrs. 
Garland,  and  ask  her  how  the  toning  down  of  the 
wedding  had  best  be  done.  '  It  is  plain  enough  that 
to  make  merry  just  now  would  be  slighting  Bob's 
feelings,  as  if  we  didn't  care  who  was  not  married,  so 
long  as  we  were,'  he  said.  '  But  then,  what's  to  be 
done  about  the  victuals  ? ' 

'  Give  a  dinner  to  the  poor  folk,'  she  suggested.  '  We 
can  get  everything  used  up  that  way.7 

'  That's  true/  said  the  miller.  '  There's  enough  of 
'em  in  these  times  to  carry  off  any  extras  whatsoever.' 

'And  it  will  save  Bob's  feelings  wonderfully.  And 
they  won't  know  that  the  dinner  was  got  for  another 
sort  of  wedding  and  another  sort  of  guests ;  so  you'll 
have  their  good-will  for  nothing.' 

The  miller  smiled  at  the  subtlety  of  the  view.  '  That 
can  hardly  be  called  fair,'  he  said.  'Still,  I  did  mean 
some  of  it  for  them,  for  the  friends  we  meant  to  ask 
would  not  have  cleared  all.' 

Upon  the  whole  the  idea  pleased  him  well,  particularly 
when  he  noticed  the  forlorn  look  of  his  sailor  son  as  he 
182 


THE   TRUMPET-MAJOR 

walked  about  the  place,  and  pictured  the  inevitably  jarring 
effect  of  fiddles  and  tambourines  upon  Bob's  shattered 
nerves  at  such  a  crisis,  even  if  the  notes  of  the  former 
were  dulled  by  the  application  of  a  mute,  and  Bob  shut 
up  in  a  distant  bedroom — a  plan  which  had  at  first 
occurred  to  him.  He  therefore  told  Bob  that  the 
surcharged  larder  was  to  be  emptied  by  the  charitable 
process  above  alluded  to,  and  hoped  he  would  not  mind 
making  himself  useful  in  such  a  good  and  gloomy  work. 
Bob  readily  fell  in  with  the  scheme,  and  it  was  at  once 
put  in  hand  and  the  tables  spread. 

The  alacrity  with  which  the  substituted  wedding  was 
carried  out,  seemed  to  show  that  the  worthy  pair  of 
neighbours  would  have  joined  themselves  into  one  long 
ago,  had  there  previously  occurred  any  domestic  incident 
dictating  such  a  step  as  an  apposite  expedient,  apart 
from  their  personal  wish  to  marry. 

The  appointed  morning  came,  and  the  service  quietly 
took  place  at  the  cheerful  hour  of  ten,  in  the  face  of  a 
triangular  congregation,  of  which  the  base  was  the  front 
pew,  and  the  apex  the  west  door.  Mrs.  Garland  dressed 
herself  in  the  muslin  shawl  like  Queen  Charlotte's,  that 
Bob  had  brought  home,  and  her  best  plum-coloured 
gown,  beneath  which  peeped  out  her  shoes  with  red 
rosettes.  Anne  was  present,  but  she  considerately  toned 
herself  down,  so  as  not  to  too  seriously  damage  her 
mother's  appearance.  At  moments  during  the  ceremony 
she  had  a  distressing  sense  that  she  ought  not  to  be 
born,  and  was  glad  to  get  home  again. 

The  interest  excited  in  the  village,  though  real,  wa3 
hardly  enough  to  bring  a  serious  blush  to  the  face  of 
coyness.  Neighbours'  minds  had  become  so  saturated  by 
the  abundance  of  showy  military  and  regal  incident  lately 
vouchsafed  to  them,  that  the  wedding  of  middle-aged 
civilians  was  of  small  account,  excepting  in  so  far  that 
it  solved  the  question  whether  or  not  Mrs.  Garland  would 
consider  herself  too  genteel  to  mate  with  a  grinder  of  corn. 

183 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

In  the  evening,  Loveday's  heart  was  made  glad  by 
seeing  the  baked  and  boiled  in  rapid  process  of  con- 
sumption by  the  kitchenful  of  people  assembled  for  that 
purpose.  Three-quarters  of  an  hour  were  sufficient  to 
banish  for  ever  his  fears  as  to  spoilt  food.  The  pro- 
visions being  the  cause  of  the  assembly,  and  not  its 
consequence,  it  had  been  determined  to  get  all  that 
would  not  keep  consumed  on  that  day,  even  if  high- 
ways and  hedges  had  to  be  searched  for  operators. 
And,  in  addition  to  the  poor  and  needy,  every 
cottager's  daughter  known  to  the  miller  was  invited, 
and  told  to  bring  her  lover  from  camp — an  expedient 
which,  for  letting  daylight  into  the  inside  of  full  platters, 
was  among  the  most  happy  ever  known. 

While  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Loveday,  Anne,  and  Bob  were 
standing  in  the  parlour,  discussing  the  progress  of  the 
entertainment  in  the  next  room,  John,  who  had  not 
been  down  all  day,  entered  the  house  and  looked  in 
upon  them  through  the  open  door. 

1  How's  this,  John  ?     Why  didn't  you  come  before  ? ' 

1  Had  to  see  the  captain,  and — other  duties,'  said 
the  trumpet-major,  in  a  tone  which  showed  no  great 
zeal  for  explanations. 

'  Well,  come  in,  however,'  continued  the  miller,  as  his 
son  remained  with  his  hand  on  the  door-post,  surveying 
them  reflectively. 

'  I  cannot  stay  long,'  said  John,  advancing.  '  The 
Route  is  come,  and  we  are  going  away.' 

'  Going  away  !     Where  to  ? ' 

1  To  Exonbury.' 

'  When  ? ' 

*  Friday  morning.' 

•All  of  you?' 

'Yes;  some  to-morrow  and  some  next  day.  The 
King  goes  next  week.' 

'  I  am  sorry  for  this,'  said  the  miller,  not  expressing 
half  his  sorrow  by  the  simple  utterance.  '  I  wish  you 
184 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

could  have  been  here  to-day,  since  this  is  the  case,'  he 
added,  looking  at  the  horizon  through  the  window. 

Mrs.  Loveday  also  expressed  her  regret,  which  seemed 
to  remind  the  trumpet-major  of  the  event  of  the  day, 
and  he  went  to  her  and  tried  to  say  something  befitting 
the  occasion.  Anne  had  not  said  that  she  was  either 
sorry  or  glad,  but  John  Loveday  fancied  that  she  had 
looked  rather  relieved  than  otherwise  when  she  heard 
his  news.  His  conversation  with  Bob  on  the  down 
made  Bob's  manner,  too,  remarkably  cool,  notwith- 
standing that  he  had  after  all  followed  his  brother's 
advice,  which  it  was  as  yet  too  soon  after  the  event 
for  him  to  rightly  value.  John  did  not  know  why 
the  sailor  had  come  back,  never  supposing  that  it 
was  because  he  had  thought  better  of  going,  and  said 
to  him  privately,  '  You  didn't  overtake  her  ? ' 

« I  didn't  try  to,'  said  Bob. 

*  And  you  are  not  going  to  ?  ' 

'  No  j  I  shall  let  her  drift.' 

1 1  am  glad  indeed,  Bob ;  you  have  been  wise/  said 
John  heartily. 

Bob,  however,  still  loved  Matilda  too  well  to  be  other 
than  dissatisfied  with  John  and  the  event  that  he  had 
precipitated,  which  the  elder  brother  only  too  promptly 
perceived ;  and  it  made  his  stay  that  evening  of  short 
duration.  Before  leaving  he  said  with  some  hesitation 
to  his  father,  including  Anne  and  her  mother  by  his 
glance,  *  Do  you  think  to  come  up  and  see  us  off? ' 

The  miller  answered  for  them  all,  and  said  that  of 
course  they  would  come.  '  But  you'll  step  down  again 
between  now  and  then  ?  '  he  inquired. 

'  I'll  try  to.'  He  added  after  a  pause,  c  In  case  I 
should  not,  remember  that  Revalley  will  sound  at  half- 
past  five;  we  shall  leave  about  eight.  Next  summer, 
perhaps,  we  shall  come  and  camp  here  again.' 

'  I  hope  so/  said  his  father  and  Mrs.  Loveday. 

There  was  something  in  John's  manner  which  indi- 

185 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

cated  to  Anne  that  he  scarcely  intended  to  come  down 
again ;  but  the  others  did  not  notice  it,  and  she  said 
nothing.  He  departed  a  few  minutes  later,  in  the  dusk 
of  the  August  evening,  leaving  Anne  still  in  doubt  as  to 
the  meaning  of  his  private  meeting  with  Miss  Johnson. 

John  Loveday  had  been  going  to  tell  them  that  on 
the  last  night,  by  an  especial  privilege,  it  would  be  in 
his  power  to  come  and  stay  with  them  until  eleven 
o'clock,  but  at  the  moment  of  leaving  he  abandoned  the 
intention.  Anne's  attitude  had  chilled  him,  and  made 
him  anxious  to  be  off.  He  utilized  the  spare  hours  of 
that  last  night  in  another  way. 

This  was  by  coming  down  from  the  outskirts  of  the 
camp  in  the  evening,  and  seating  himself  near  the  brink 
of  the  mill-pond  as  soon  as  it  was  quite  dark ;  where  he 
watched  the  lights  in  the  different  windows  till  one 
appeared  in  Anne's  bedroom,  and  she  herself  came  for- 
ward to  shut  the  casement,  with  the  candle  in  her  hand. 
The  light  shone  out  upon  the  broad  and  deep  mill-head, 
illuminating  to  a  distinct  individuality  every  moth  and 
gnat  that  entered  the  quivering  chain  of  radiance  stretch- 
ing across  the  water  towards  him,  and  every  bubble  or 
atom  of  froth  that  floated  into  its  width.  She  stood  for 
some  time  looking  out,  little  thinking  what  the  darkness 
concealed  on  the  other  side  of  that  wide  stream ;  till  at 
length  she  closed  the  casement,  drew  the  curtains,  and 
retreated  into  the  room.  Presently  the  light  went  out, 
upon  which  John  Loveday  returned  to  camp  and  lay 
down  in  his  tent. 

The  next  morning  was  dull  and  windy,  and  the 
trumpets  of  the  — th  sounded  ReVeille  for  the  last  time 
on  Overcombe  Down.  Knowing  that  the  Dragoons 
were  going  away,  Anne  had  slept  needfully,  and  was  at 
once  awakened  by  the  smart  notes.  She  looked  out  of 
the  window,  to  find  that  the  miller  was  already  astir,  his 
white  form  being  visible  at  the  end  of  his  garden,  where 
he  stood  motionless,  watching  the  preparations.  Anne 
186 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

also  looked  on  as  well  as  she  could  through  the  dim 
grey  gloom,  and  soon  she  saw  the  blue  smoke  from  the 
cooks'  fires  creeping  fitfully  along  the  ground,  instead 
of  rising  in  vertical  columns,  as  it  had  done  during  the 
fine  weather  season.  Then  the  men  began  to  carry 
their  bedding  to  the  waggons,  and  others  to  throw  all 
refuse  into  the  trenches,  till  the  down  was  lively  as  an 
ant-hill.  Anne  did  not  want  to  see  John  Loveday  again, 
but  hearing  the  household  astir,  she  began  to  dress  at 
leisure,  looking  out  at  the  camp  the  while. 

When  the  soldiers  had  breakfasted,  she  saw  them 
selling  and  giving  away  their  superfluous  crockery  to  the 
natives  who  had  clustered  round ;  and  then  they  pulled 
down  and  cleared  away  the  temporary  kitchens  which 
they  had  constructed  when  they  came.  A  tapping  of 
tent-pegs  and  wriggling  of  picket-posts  followed,  and 
soon  the  cones  of  white  canvas,  now  almost  become  a 
component  part  of  the  landscape,  fell  to  the  ground. 
At  this  moment  the  miller  came  indoors  and  asked  at 
the  foot  of  the  stairs  if  anybody  was  going  up  the  hill 
with  him. 

Anne  felt  that,  in  spite  of  the  cloud  hanging  over 
John  in  her  mind,  it  would  ill  become  the  present 
moment  not  to  see  him  off,  and  she  went  downstairs 
to  her  mother,  who  was  already  there,  though  Bob  was 
nowhere  to  be  seen.  Each  took  an  arm  of  the  miller, 
and  thus  climbed  to  the  top  of  the  hill.  By  this  time 
the  men  and  horses  were  at  the  place  of  assembly,  and, 
shortly  after  the  mill-party  reached  level  ground,  the 
troops  slowly  began  to  move  forward.  When  the 
trumpet-major,  half  buried  in  his  uniform,  arms,  and 
horse-furniture,  drew  near  to  the  spot  where  the  Love- 
days  were  waiting  to  see  him  pass,  his  father  turned 
anxiously  to  Anne  and  said,  'You  will  shake  hands 
with  John  ? ' 

Anne  faintly  replied  « Yes,'  and  allowed  the  miller  to 
take  her  forward  on  his  arm  to  the  trackway,  so  as  to  be 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

close  to  the  flank  of  the  approaching  column.  It  came 
up,  many  people  on  each  side  grasping  the  hands  of  the 
troopers  in  bidding  them  farewell ;  and  as  soon  as  John 
Loveday  saw  the  members  of  his  father's  household,  he 
stretched  down  his  hand  across  his  right  pistol  for  the 
same  performance.  The  miller  gave  his,  then  Mrs. 
Loveday  gave  hers,  and  then  the  hand  of  the  trumpet- 
major  was  extended  towards  Anne.  But  as  the  horse 
did  not  absolutely  stop,  it  was  a  somewhat  awkward 
performance  for  a  young  woman  to  undertake,  and, 
more  on  that  account  than  on  any  other,  Anne  drew 
back,  and  the  gallant  trooper  passed  by  without  receiving 
her  adieu.  Anne's  heart  reproached  her  for  a  moment ; 
and  then  she  thought  that,  after  all,  he  was  not  going 
off  to  immediate  battle,  and  that  she  would  in  all 
probability  see  him  again  at  no  distant  date,  when  she 
hoped  that  the  mystery  of  his  conduct  would  be  ex- 
plained. Her  thoughts  were  interrupted  by  a  voice  at 
her  elbow  :  « Thank  heaven,  he's  gone  !  Now  there's  a 
chance  for  me.' 

She  turned,  and  Festus  Derriman  was  standing  by  her. 

*  There's  no  chance  for  you,'  she  said  indignantly. 
'  Why  not  ?  ' 

1  Because  there's  another  left ! ' 

The  words  had  slipped  out  quite  unintentionally, 
and  she  blushed  quickly.  She  would  have  given 
anything  to  be  able  to  recall  them ;  but  he  had  heard, 
and  said,  <  Who  ?  ' 

Anne  went  forward  to  the  miller  to  avoid  replying, 
and  Festus  caught  her  no  more. 

'  Has  anybody  been  hanging  about  Overcombe  Mill 
except  Loveday's  son  the  soldier  ? '  he  asked  of  a 
comrade. 

'  His  son  the  sailor,'  was  the  reply. 

*  O — his  son  the  sailor,'  said  Festus  slowly.     '  Damn 
his  son  the  sailor ! ' 


1 88 


THE   TRUMPET-MAJOR 


THE  TWO  HOUSEHOLDS 

UNITED 

XXII 

AT  this  particular  moment  the  object  of  Festus  Derri- 
man's  fulmination  was  assuredly  not  dangerous  as  a  rival. 
Bob,  after  abstractedly  watching  the  soldiers  from  the 
front  of  the  house  till  they  were  out  of  sight,  had  gone 
within  doors  and  seated  himself  in  the  mill-parlour, 
where  his  father  found  him,  his  elbows  resting  on  the 
table  and  his  forehead  on  his  hands,  his  eyes  being  fixed 
upon  a  document  that  lay  open  before  him. 
.  « What  art  perusing,  Bob,  with  such  a  long  face  ?  ' 

Bob  sighed,  and  then  Mrs.  Loveday  and  Anne  entered. 
4  'Tis  only  a  state-paper  that  I  fondly  thought  I  should 
have  a  use  for,'  he  said  gloomily.  And,  looking  down 
as  before,  he  cleared  his  voice,  as  if  moved  inwardly  to 
go  on,  and  began  to  read  in  feeling  tones  from  what 
proved  to  be  his  nullified  marriage  licence  : — 

' "  Timothy  Titus  Philemon,  by  permission  Bishop  of  Bristol :  To 
our  well-beloved  Robert  Loveday,  of  the  parish  of  Overcombe, 
Bachelor ;  and  Matilda  Johnson,  of  the  same  parish,  Spinster. 
Greeting. ' " 

Here  Anne  sighed,  but  contrived  to  keep  down  her 
sigh  to  a  mere  nothing. 

189 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

'  Beautiful  language,  isn't  it ! '  said  Bob.  '  I  was 
never  greeted  like  that  afore  ! ' 

'  Yes ;  I  have  often  thought  it  very  excellent  language 
myself,'  said  Mrs.  Loveday. 

'  Come  to  that,  the  old  gentleman  will  greet  thee  like 
it  again  any  day  for  a  couple  of  guineas,'  said  the  miller. 

'  That's  not  the  point,  father !  You  never  could  see 
the  real  meaning  of  these  things.  .  .  .  Well,  then  he 
goes  on :  "  Whereas  ye  are,  as  it  is  alleged,  determined 
to  enter  into  the  holy  estate  of  matrimony —  But  why 
should  I  read  on  ?  It  all  means  nothing  now — nothing, 
and  the  splendid  words  are  all  wasted  upon  air.  It 
seems  as  if  I  had  been  hailed  by  some  venerable  hoary 
prophet,  and  had  turned  away,  put  the  helm  hard  up, 
and  wouldn't  hear.' 

Nobody  replied,  feeling  probably  that  sympathy  could 
not  meet  the  case,  and  Bob  went  on  reading  the  rest  of 
it  to  himself,  occasionally  heaving  a  breath  like  the  wind 
in  a  ship's  shrouds. 

'  I  wouldn't  set  my  mind  so  much  upon  her,  if  I  was 
thee,'  said  his  father  at  last. 

1  Why  not?' 

c  Well,  folk  might  call  thee  a  fool,  and  say  thy  brains 
were  turning  to  water.' 

Bob  was  apparently  much  struck  by  this  thought, 
and,  instead  of  continuing  the  discourse  further,  he  care- 
fully folded  up  the  licence,  went  out,  and  walked  up  and 
down  the  garden.  It  was  startlingly  apt  what  his  father 
had  said ;  and,  worse  than  that,  what  people  would  call 
him  might  be  true,  and  the  liquefaction  of  his  brains  turn 
out  to  be  no  fable.  By  degrees  he  became  much  con- 
cerned, and  the  more  he  examined  himself  by  this  new 
light  the  more  clearly  did  he  perceive  that  he  was  in  a 
very  bad  way. 

On  reflection  he  remembered  that  since  Miss  John- 
son's departure  his  appetite  had  decreased  amazingly. 
He  had  eaten  in  meat  no  more  than  fourteen  or  fifteen 
190 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

ounces  a  day,  but  one-third  of  a  quartern  pudding  on 
an  average,  in  vegetables  only  a  small  heap  of  potatoes 
and  half  a  York  cabbage,  and  no  gravy  whatever ;  which, 
considering  the  usual  appetite  of  a  seaman  for  fresh  food 
at  the  end  of  a  long  voyage,  was  no  small  index  of  the 
depression  of  his  mind.  Then  he  had  waked  once 
every  night,  and  on  one  occasion  twice.  While  dressing 
each  morning  since  the  gloomy  day  he  had  not  whistled 
more  than  seven  bars  of  a  hornpipe  without  stopping 
and  falling  into  thought  of  a  most  painful  kind ;  and  he 
had  told  none  but  absolutely  true  stories  of  foreign 
parts  to  the  neighbouring  villagers  when  they  saluted 
and  clustered  about  him,  as  usual,  for  anything  he  chose 
to  pour  forth — except  that  story  of  the  whale  whose  eye 
was  about  as  large  as  the  round  pond  in  Derriman:s 
ewe-lease — which  was  like  tempting  fate  to  set  a  seal  for 
ever  upon  his  tongue  as  a  traveller.  All  this  enervation, 
mental  and  physical,  had  been  produced  by  Matilda's 
departure. 

He  also  considered  what  he  had  lost  of  the  rational 
amusements  of  manhood  during  these  unfortunate  days. 
He  might  have  gone  to  the  neighbouring  fashionable 
resort  every  afternoon,  stood  before  Gloucester  Lodge 
till  the  King  and  Queen  came  out,  held  his  hat  in  his 
hand,  and  enjoyed  their  Majesties'  smiles  at  his  homage 
all  for  nothing — watched  the  picket-mounting,  heard 
the  different  bands  strike  up,  observed  the  staff;  and, 
above  all,  have  seen  the  pretty  town  girls  go  trip-trip- 
trip  along  the  esplanade,  deliberately  fixing  their  innocent 
eyes  on  the  distant  sea,  the  grey  cliffs,  and  the  sky,  and 
accidentally  on  the  soldiers  and  himself. 

'  I'll  raze  out  her  image,'  he  said.  *  She  shall  make 
a  fool  of  me  no  more.'  And  his  resolve  resulted  in 
conduct  which  had  elements  of  real  greatness. 

He  went  back  to  his  father,  whom  he  found  in  the 
mill-loft.  « 'Tis  true,  father,  what  you  say,'  he  observed  : 
'my  brains  will  turn  to  bilge-water  if  I  think  of  her 
191 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

much  longer.  By  the  oath  of  a — navigator,  I  wish  I 
could  sigh  less  and  laugh  more  !  She's  gone — why  can't 
I  let  her  go,  and  be  happy  ?  But  how  begin  ?  ' 

c  Take  it  careless,  my  son,'  said  the  miller,  '  and  lay 
yourself  out  to  enjoy  snacks  and  cordials.' 

'  Ah— that's  a  thought ! '  said  Bob. 

'  Baccy  is  good  for't.  So  is  sperrits.  Though  I 
don't  advise  thee  to  drink  neat.' 

*  Baccy — I'd  almost  forgot  it ! '  said  Captain  Loveday. 

He  went  to  his  room,  hastily  untied  the  package  of 
tobacco  that  he  had  brought  home,  and  began  to  make 
use  of  it  in  his  own  way,  calling  to  David  for  a  bottle  of 
the  old  household  mead  that  had  lain  in  the  cellar  these 
eleven  years.  He  was  discovered  by  his  father  three- 
quarters  of  an  hour  later  as  a  half-invisible  object  behind 
a  cloud  of  smoke. 

The  miller  drew  a  breath  of  relief.  <  Why,  Bob,'  he 
said,  c  I  thought  the  house  was  a-fire  ! ' 

'  I'm  smoking  rather  fast  to  drown  my  reflections, 
father.  'Tis  no  use  to  chaw.' 

To  tempt  his  attenuated  appetite  the  unhappy  mate 
made  David  cook  an  omelet  and  bake  a  seed-cake,  the 
latter  so  richly  compounded  that  it  opened  to  the  knife 
like  a  freckled  buttercup.  With  the  same  object  he  stuck 
night-lines  into  the  banks  of  the  mill-pond,  and  drew 
up  next  morning  a  family  of  fat  eels,  some  of  which 
were  skinned  and  prepared  for  his  breakfast.  They 
were  his  favourite  fish,  but  such  had  been  his  condition 
that,  until  the  moment  of  making  this  effort,  he  had 
quite  forgotten  their  existence  at  his  father's  back-door. 

In  a  few  days  Bob  Loveday  had  considerably  im- 
proved in  tone  and  vigour.  One  other  obvious  remedy 
for  his  dejection  was  to  indulge  in  the  society  of  Miss 
Garland,  love  being  so  much  more  effectually  got  rid  of 
by  displacement  than  by  attempted  annihilation.  But 
Loveday's  belief  that  he  had  offended  her  beyond  forgive- 
ness, and  his  ever-present  sense  of  her  as  a  woman  who 
192 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

by  education  and  antecedents  was  fitted  to  adorn  a 
higher  sphere  than  his  own,  effectually  kept  him  from 
going  near  her  for  a  long  time,  notwithstanding  that  they 
were  inmates  of  one  house.  The  reserve  was,  however, 
in  some  degree  broken  by  the  appearance  one  morning, 
later  in  the  season,  of  the  point  of  a  saw  through  the 
partition  which  divided  Anne's  room  from  the  Loveday 
half  of  the  house.  Though  she  dined  and  supped  with 
her  mother  and  the  Loveday  family,  Miss  Garland  had 
still  continued  to  occupy  her  old  apartments,  because 
she  found  it  more  convenient  there  to  pursue  her  hobbies 
of  wool-work  and  of  copying  her  father's  old  pictures. 
The  division  wall  had  not  as  yet  been  broken  down. 

As  the  saw  worked  its  way  downwards  under  her 
astonished  gaze  Anne  jumped  up  from  her  drawing  ;  and 
presently  the  temporary  canvasing  and  papering  which 
had  sealed  up  the  old  door  of  communication  was  cut 
completely  through.  The  door  burst  open,  and  Bob 
stood  revealed  on  the  other  side,  with  the  saw  in  his 
hand. 

'  I  beg  your  ladyship's  pardon,'  he  said,  taking  off 
the  hat  he  had  been  working  in,  as  his  handsome  face 
expanded  into  a  smile.  '  I  didn't  know  this  door 
opened  into  your  private  room.' 

'  Indeed,  Captain  Loveday  ! ' 

'  I  am  pulling  down  the  division  on  principle,  as  we 
are  now  one  family.  But  I  really  thought  the  door 
opened  into  your  passage.' 

'  It  don't  matter ;  I  can  get  another  room.' 

'  Not  at  all.  Father  wouldn't  let  me  turn  you  out. 
I'll  close  it  up  again.' 

But  Anne  was  so  interested  in  the  novelty  of  a  new 
doorway  that  she  walked  through  it,  and  found  herself 
in  a  dark  low  passage  which  she  had  never  seen  before. 

'  It  leads  to  the  mill,'  said  Bob.  '  Would  you  like 
to  go  in  and  see  it  at  work  ?  But  perhaps  you  have 
already.' 

I93  N 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

'  Only  into  the  ground  floor.' 

'  Come  all  over  it.  I  am  practising  as  grinder,  you 
know,  to  help  my  father.' 

She  followed  him  along  the  dark  passage,  in  the  side 
of  which  he  opened  a  little  trap,  when  she  saw  a  great 
slimy  cavern,  where  the  long  arms  of  the  mill-wheel  flung 
themselves  slowly  and  distractedly  round,  and  splashing 
water-drops  caught  the  little  light  that  strayed  into  the 
gloomy  place,  turning  it  into  stars  and  flashes.  A  cold 
mist-laden  puff  of  air  came  into  their  faces,  and  the  roar 
from  within  made  it  necessary  for  Anne  to  shout  as  she 
said,  '  It  is  dismal !  let  us  go  on.' 

Bob  shut  the  trap,  the  roar  ceased,  and  they  went 
on  to.  the  mn,er  part  of  the  prill,  where  the  air  was 
warm  and  nutty,  and  pervaded  by  a  fog  of  flour.  Then 
they  ascended  the  stairs,*  and  saw  the  stones  lumbering 
round  and  round,  and  the  yellow  corn  running  down 
through  the  hopper.  They  climbed  yet  further  to  the 
top  stagex  where  the  wheat  lay  in  bins*  and  where  long 
rays  like  feelers  stretched  in  from  the  sun  through 
the  little  window^  got  nearly  lost  among  cobwebs  and 
timber,  and  completed  their  course  by  marking  the  oppo- 
site wall  with  a  glowing  patch  of  gold. 

In  his  earnestness  as  an  exhibitor  Bob  opened  the 
bolter,  which  was  spinning  rapidly  round,  the  result 
being  that  a  dense  cloud  of  flour  rolled  out  in  their 
faces,  reminding  Anne  that  her  complexion  was  probably 
much  paler  by  this  time  than  when  she  had  entered  the 
mill.  She  thanked  her  companion  for  his  trouble,  and 
said  she  would  now  go  down.  He  followed  her  with 
the  same  deference  as  hitherto,  and  with,  a  sudden  and 
increasing  sense  that  of  all  cures  for  his  former  unjiappy 
passion  this  would  have  been  the  nicest,  the  easiest, 
and  the  most  effectual,  if  he  had  only  been  fortunate 
enough  to  keep  her. upon  easy  terms.  But  Miss  Gar- 
land showed  no  disposition  to  go  further  than  accept 
his  services  as  a  guide;  she  descended  to  the  open  air, 
194 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

shook  the  flour  from  her  like  a  bird,  and  went  on  into 
the  garden  amid  the  September  sunshine,  whose  rays 
lay  level  across  the  blue  haze  which  the  earth  gave  forth. 
The  gnats  were  dancing  up  and  down  in  airy  com- 
panies, the  nasturtium  flowers  shone  out  in  groups  from 
the  dark  hedge  over  which  they  climbed,  and  the  mellow 
smell  of  the  decline  of  summer  was  exhaled  by  every- 
thing. Bob  followed  her  as  far  as  the  gate,  looked 
after  her,  thought  of  her  as  the  same  girl  who  had  half 
encouraged  him  years  ago,  when  she  seemed  so  superior 
to  him ;  though  now  they  were  almost  equal  she  ap- 
parently thought  him  beneath  her.  It  was  with  a  new 
sense  of  pleasure  that  his  mind  flew  to  the  fact  that 
she  was  now  an  inmate  of  his  father's  house. 

His  obsequious  bearing  was  continued  during  the 
next  week.  In  the  busy  hours  of  the  day  they  seldom 
met,  but  they  regularly  encountered  each  other  at  meals, 
and  these  cheerful  occasions  began  to  have  an  interest 
for  him  quite  irrespective  of  dishes  and  cups.  When 
Anne  entered  and  took  her  seat  she  was  always  loudly 
hailed  by  Miller  Loveday  as  he  whetted  his  knife ;  but 
from  Bob  she  condescended  to  accept  no  such  familiar 
greeting,  and  they  often  sat  down  together  as  if  each 
had  a  blind  eye  in  the  direction  of  the  other.  Bob 
sometimes  told  serious  and  correct  stories  about  sea- 
captains,  pilots,  boatswains,  mates,  able  seamen,  and 
other  curious  fauna  of  the  marine  world;  but  these 
were  directly  addressed  to  his  father  and  Mrs.  Loveday, 
Anne  being  included  at  the  clinching-point  by  a  glance 
only.  He  sometimes  opened  bottles  of  sweet  cider  for 
her,  and  then  she  thanked  him ;.  but  even  this  did  not 
lead  to  her  encouraging  his  chat. 

One  day  when  Anne  was  paring  an  apple  she  was 
left  at  table  with  the  young  man.  '  I  have  made  some- 
thing for  you,'  he  said. 

She  looked  all  over  the  table;  nothing  was  there 
save  the  ordinary  remnants. 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

1  O  I  don't  mean  that  it  is  here  ;  it  is  out  by  the 
bridge  at  the  mill-head.' 

He  arose,  and  Anne  followed  with  curiosity  in  her 
eyes,  and  with  her  firm  little  mouth  pouted  up  to  a 
puzzled  shape.  On  reaching  the  mossy  mill-head  she 
found  that  he  had  fixed  in  the  keen  damp  draught 
which  always  prevailed  over  the  wheel  an  ^Eolian  harp 
of  large  size.  At  present  the  strings  were  partly  covered 
with  a  cloth.  He  lifted  it,  and  the  wires  began  to 
emit  a  weird  harmony  which  mingled  curiously  with  the 
plashing  of  the  wheel. 

'  I  made  it  on  purpose  for  you,  Miss  Garland,'  he 
said. 

She  thanked  him  very  warmly,  for  she  had  never 
seen  anything  like  such  an  instrument  before,  and  it 
interested  her.  '  It  was  very  thoughtful  of  you  to 
make  it,'  she  added.  '  How  came  you  to  think  of 
such  a  thing  ? ' 

'  O  I  don't  know  exactly,'  he  replied,  as  if  he  did 
not  care  to  be  questioned  on  the  point.  '  I  have 
never  made  one  in  my  life  till  now.' 

Every  night  after  this,  during  the  mournful  gales  of 
autumn,  the  strange  mixed  music  of  water,  wind,  and 
strings  met  her  ear,  swelling  and  sinking  with  an  almost 
supernatural  cadence.  The  character  of  the  instrument 
was  far  enough  removed  from  anything  she  had  hitherto 
seen  of  Bob's  hobbies ;  so  that  she  marvelled  pleasantly 
at  the  new  depths  of  poetry  this  contrivance  revealed  as 
existent  in  that  young  seaman's  nature,  and  allowed  her 
emotions  to  flow  out  yet  a  little  further  in  the  old 
direction,  notwithstanding  her  late  severe  resolve  to  bar 
them  back. 

One  breezy  night,  when  the  mill  was  kept  going  into 
the  small  hours,  and  the  wind  was  exactly  in  the  direction 
of  the  water-current,  the  music  so  mingled  with  her 
dreams  as  to  wake  her :  it  seemed  to  rhythmically  set 
itself  to  the  words,  ' Remember  me !  think  of  me ! ' 
196 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

She  was  much  impressed ;  the  sounds  were  almost  too 
touching ;  and  she  spoke  to  Bob  the  next  morning  on 
the  subject. 

'  How  strange  it  is  that  you  should  have  thought  of 
fixing  that  harp  where  the  water  gushes  ! '  she  gently 
observed.  '  It  affects  me  almost  painfully  at  night. 
You  are  poetical,  Captain  Bob.  But  it  is  too — too 
sad!' 

c  I  will  take  it  away,'  said  Captain  Bob  promptly. 
'  It  certainly  is  too  sad ;  I  thought  so  myself.  I  myself 
was  kept  awake  by  it  one  night.' 

'  How  came  you  to  think  of  making  such  a  peculiar 
thing  ? ' 

'  Well,'  said  Bob,  '  it  is  hardly  worth  saying  why. 
It  is  not  a  good  place  for  such  a  queer  noisy  machine ; 
and  I'll  take  it  away.' 

'  On  second  thoughts,'  said  Anne,  '  I  should  like  it 
to  remain  a  little  longer,  because  it  sets  me  thinking.' 

'  Of  me  ?  '  he  asked  with  earnest  frankness. 

Anne's  colour  rose  fast. 

*  Well,  yes,'  she  said,  trying  to  infuse  much  plain 
matter-of-fact  into  her  voice.  '  Of  course  I  am  led  to 
think  of  the  person  who  invented  it.' 

Bob  seemed  unaccountably  embarrassed,  and  the 
subject  was  not  pursued.  About  half-an-hour  later  he 
came  to  her  again,  with  something  of  an  uneasy  look. 

'There  was  a  little  matter  I  didn't  tell  you  just  now, 
Miss  Garland,'  he  said.  { About  that  harp  thing,  I 
mean.  I  did  make  it,  certainly,  but  it  was  my  brother 
John  who  asked  me  to  do  it,  just  before  he  went  away. 
John  is  very  musical,  as  you  know,  and  he  said  it  would 
interest  you ;  but  as  he  didn't  ask  me  to  tell,  I  did  not. 
Perhaps  I  ought  to  have,  and  not  have  taken  the  credit 
to  myself.' 

1 0,  it  is  nothing  ! '  said  Anne  quickly.     { It  is  a  very 
incomplete  instrument  after  all,  and  it  will  be  just  as 
well  for  you  to  take  it  away  as  you  first  proposed.' 
197 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

He  said  that  he  would,  but  he  forgot  to  do  it  that 
day;  and  the  following  night  there  was  a  high  wind, 
and  the  harp  cried  and  moaned  so  movingly  that  Anne, 
whose  window  was  quite  near,  could  hardly  bear  the 
sound  with  its  new  associations.  John  Loveday  was 
present  to  her  mind  all  night  as  an  ill-used  man;  and 
yet  she  could  not  own  that  she  had  ill-used  him. 

The  harp  was  removed  next  day.  Bob,  feeling  that 
his  credit  for  originality  was  damaged  in  her  eyes,  by 
way  of  recovering  it  set  himself  to  paint  the  summer- 
house  which  Anne  frequented,  and  when  he  came  out  he 
assured  her  that  it  was  quite  his  own  idea. 

'  It  wanted  doing,  certainly,'  she  said,  in  a  neutral 
tone. 

'  It  is  just  about  troublesome.' 

'  Yes  ;  you  can't  quite  reach  up.  That's  because  you 
are  not  very  tall ;  is  it  not,  Captain  Loveday  ? ' 

*  You  never  used  to  say  things  like  that.' 

1  O,  I  don't  mean  that  you  are  much  less  than  tall ! 
Shall  I  hold  the  paint  for  you,  to  save  your  stepping 
down  ? ' 

*  Thank  you,  if  you  would/ 

She  took  the  paint-pot,  and  stood  looking  at  the  brush 
as  it  moved  up  and  down  in  his  hand. 

'  I  hope  I  shall  not  sprinkle  your  fingers,'  he  observed 
as  he  dipped. 

1  O,  that  would  not  matter !     You  do  it  very  well.' 

'  I  am  glad  to  hear  that  you  think  so.' 

<  But  perhaps  not  quite  so  much  art  is  demanded  to 
paint  a  summer-house  as  to  paint  a  picture  ? ' 

Thinking  that,  as  a  painter's  daughter,  and  a  person 
of  education  superior  to  his  own,  she  spoke  with  a  flavour 
of  sarcasm,  he  felt  humbled  and  said — 

'  You  did  not  use  to  talk  like  that  to  me.' 

*  I  was  perhaps  too  young  then  to  take  any  pleasure 
in  giving  pain,'  she  observed  daringly. 

1  Does  it  give  you  pleasure  ? ' 
198 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

Anne  nodded. 

'  I  like  to  give  pain  to  people  who  have  given  pain  to 
me/  she  said  smartly,  without  removing  her  eyes  from 
the  green  liquid  in  her  hand. 

'  I  ask  your  pardon  for  that/ 

'  I  didn't  say  I  meant  you — though  I  did  mean 
you/ 

Bob  looked  and  looked  at  her  side  face  till  he  was 
bewitched  into  putting  down  his  brush. 

4  It  was  that  stupid  forgetting  of  *ee  for  a  time !  '  he 
exclaimed.  '  Well,  I  hadn't  seen  you  for  so  very  long — 
consider  how  many  years !  O,  dear  Anne ! '  he  said, 
advancing  to  take  her  hand,  'how  well  we  knew  one 
another  when  we  were  children !  You  was  a  queen  to 
me  then ;  and  so  you  are  now,  and  always.' 

Possibly  Anne  was  thrilled  pleasantly  enough  at 
having  brought  the  truant  village  lad  to  her  feet  again ; 
but  he  was  not  to  find  the  situation  so  easy  as  he 
imagined,  and  her  hand  was  not  to  be  taken  yet. 

*  Very  pretty  ! '  she  said,  laughing.  '  And  only  six 
weeks  since  Miss  Johnson  left.' 

'  Zounds,  don't  say  anything  about  that !  *  implored 
Bob.  *  I  swear  that  I  never — never  deliberately  loved 
her — for  a  long  time  together,  that  is ;  it  was  a  sudden 
sort  of  thing,  you  know.  But  towards  you — I  have  more 
or  less  honoured  and  respectfully  loved  you,  off  and  on, 
all  my  life.  There,  that's  true.' 

Anne  retorted  quickly — 

'  I  am  willing,  off  and  on,  to  believe  you,  Captain 
Robert.  But  I  don't  see  any  good  in  your  making 
these  solemn  declarations.' 

'  Give  me  leave  to  explain,  dear  Miss  Garland.  It  is 
to  get  you  to  be  pleased  to  renew  an  old  promise — made 
years  ago — that  you'll  think  o'  me.' 

'  Not  a  word  of  any  promise  will  I  repeat.' 

'Well,  well,  I  won't  urge  'ee  to-day.  Only  let  me 
beg  of  you  to  get  over  the  quite  wrong  notion  you  have 
199 


THE   TRUMPET-MAJOR 

of  me;  and  it  shall  be  my  whole  endeavour  to  fetch 
your  gracious  favour.' 

Anne  turned  away  from  him  and  entered  the  house, 
whither  in  the  course  of  a  quarter  of  an  hour  he  followed 
her,  knocking  at  her  door,  and  asking  to  be  let  in.  She 
said  she  was  busy ;  whereupon  he  went  away,  to  come 
back  again  in  a  short  time  and  receive  the  same  answer. 

'  I  have  finished  painting  the  summer-house  for  you,' 
he  said  through  the  door. 

'I  cannot  come  to  see  it.  I  shall  be  engaged  till 
supper-time.' 

She  heard  him  breathe  a  heavy  sigh  and  withdraw, 
murmuring  something  about  his  bad  luck  in  being  cut 
away  from  the  starn  like  this.  But  it  was  not  over  yet. 
When  supper-time  came  and  they  sat  down  together, 
she  took  upon  herself  to  reprove  him  for  what  he  had 
said  to  her  in  the  garden. 

Bob  made  his  forehead  express  despair. 

'  Now,  I  beg  you  this  one  thing,'  he  said.  '  Just  let 
me  know  your  whole  mind.  Then  I  shall  have  a 
chance  to  confess  my  faults  and  mend  them,  or  clear  my 
conduct  to  your  satisfaction.' 

She  answered  with  quickness,  but  not  loud  enough 
to  be  heard  by  the  old  people  at  the  other  end  of  the 
table — *  Then,  Captain  Loveday,  I  will  tell  you  one 
thing,  one  fault,  that  perhaps  would  have  been  more 
proper  to  my  character  than  to  yours.  You  are  too 
easily  impressed  by  new  faces,  and  that  gives  me  a  bad 
opinion  of  you — yes,  a  bad  opinion? 

1  O,  that's  it  ! '  said  Bob  slowly,  looking  at  her  with 
the  intense  respect  of  a  pupil  for  a  master,  her  words 
being  spoken  in  a  manner  so  precisely  between  jest 
and  earnest  that  he  was  in  some  doubt  how  they 
were  to  be  received.  '  Impressed  by  new  faces.  It  is 
wrong,  certainly,  of  me.' 

The  popping  of  a  cork,  and  the  pouring  out  of 
strong  beer  by  the  miller  with  a  view  to  giving  it  a  head, 
200 


THE   TRUMPET-MAJOR 

were  apparently  distractions  sufficient  to  excuse  her  in 
not  attending  further  to  him  ;  and  during  the  remainder 
of  the  sitting  her  gentle  chiding  seemed  to  be  sinking 
seriously  into  his  mind.  Perhaps  her  own  heart  ached 
to  see  how  silent  he  was ;  but  she  had  always  meant  to 
punish  him.  Day  after  day  for  two  or  three  weeks  she 
preserved  the  same  demeanour,  with  a  self-control  which 
did  justice  to  her  character.  And,  on  his  part,  consider- 
ing what  he  had  to  put  up  with,  how  she  eluded  him, 
snapped  him  off,  refused  to  come  out  when  he  called 
her,  refused  to  see  him  when  he  wanted  to  enter  the 
little  parlour  which  she  had  now  appropriated  to  her 
private  use,  his  patience  testified  strongly  to  his  good- 
humour. 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 


MILITAR  Y  PREPARA  TIONS 

ON  AN  EXTENDED  SCALE 

XXIII 

CHRISTMAS  had  passed.  Dreary  winter  with  dark 
evenings  had  given  place  to  more  dreary  winter  with 
light  evenings.  Rapid  thaws  had  ended  in  rain,  rain  in 
wind,  wind  in  dust.  Showery  days  had  come — the 
season  of  pink  dawns  and  white  sunsets;  and  people 
hoped  that  the  March  weather  was  over. 

The  chief  incident  that  concerned  the  household  at 
the  mill  was  that  the  miller,  following  the  example  of 
all  his  neighbours,  had  become  a  volunteer,  and  duly 
appeared  twice  a  week  in  a  red,  long-tailed  military  coat, 
pipe-clayed  breeches,  black  cloth  gaiters,  a  heel-balled 
helmet  -  hat,  with  a  tuft  of  green  wool,  and  epaulettes 
of  the  same  colour  and  material.  Bob  still  remained 
neutral.  Not  being  able  to  decide  whether  to  enrol 
himself  as  a  sea-fencible,  a  local  militia-man,  or  a 
volunteer,  he  simply  went  on  dancing  attendance  upon 
Anne.  Mrs.  Loveday  had  become  awake  to  the  fact 
that  the  pair  of  young  people  stood  in  a  curious  attitude 
towards  each  other;  but  as  they  were  never  seen  with 
their  heads  together,  and  scarcely  ever  sat  even  in  the 
same  room,  she  could  not  be  sure  what  their  movements 
meant. 

202 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

Strangely  enough  (or  perhaps  naturally  enough), 
since  entering  the  Loveday  family  herself,  she  had 
gradually  grown  to  think  less  favourably  of  Anne  doing 
the  same  thing,  and  reverted  to  her  original  idea  of 
encouraging  Festus;  this  more  particularly  because  he 
had  of  late  shown  such  perseverance  in  haunting  the 
precincts  of  the  mill,  presumably  with  the  intention  of 
lighting  upon  the  young  girl.  But  the  weather  had  kept 
her  mostly  indoors. 

One  afternoon  it  was  raining  in  torrents.  Such 
leaves  as  there  were  on  trees  at  this  time  of  year — those 
of  the  laurel  and  other  evergreens — staggered  beneath 
the  hard  blows  of  the  drops  which  fell  upon  them,  and 
afterwards  could  be  seen  trickling  down  the  stems 
beneath  and  silently  entering  the  ground.  The  surface 
of  the  mill-pond  leapt  up  in  a  thousand  spirts  under 
the  same  downfall,  and  clucked  like  a  hen  in  the  rat- 
holes  along  the  banks  as  it  undulated  under  the  wind. 
The  only  dry  spot  visible  from  the  front  windows  of  the 
mill-house  was  the  inside  of  a  small  shed,  on  the  opposite 
side  of  the  courtyard.  While  Mrs.  Loveday  was  noticing 
the  threads  of  rain  descending  across  its  interior  shade, 
Festus  Derriman  walked  up  and  entered  it  for  shelter, 
which,  owing  to  the  lumber  within,  it  but  scantily 
afforded  to  a  man  who  would  have  been  a  match  for 
one  of  Frederick  William's  Patagonians. 

It  was  an  excellent  opportunity  for  helping  on  her 
scheme.  Anne  was  in  the  back  room,  and  by  asking 
him  in  till  the  rain  was  over  she  would  bring  him  face 
to  face  with  her  daughter,  whom,  as  the  days  went  on, 
she  increasingly  wished  to  marry  other  than  a  Loveday, 
now  that  the  romance  of  her  own  alliance  with  the  miller 
had  in  some  respects  worn  off.  She  was  better  provided 
for  than  before;  she  was  not  unhappy;  but  the  plain 
fact  was  that  she  had  married  beneath  her.  She 
beckoned  to  Festus  through  the  window-pane ;  he  in- 
stantly complied  with  her  signal,  having  in  fact  placed 
203 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

himself  there  on  purpose  to  be  noticed ;  for  he  knew  that 
Miss  Garland  would  not  be  out-of-doors  on  such  a  day. 

'  Good  afternoon,  Mrs.  Loveday,'  said  Festus  on 
entering.  '  There  now — if  I  didn't  think  that's  how  it 
would  be  ! '  His  voice  had  suddenly  warmed  to  anger, 
for  he  had  seen  a  door  close  in  the  back  part  of  the 
room,  a  lithe  figure  having  previously  slipped  through. 

Mrs.  Loveday  turned,  observed  that  Anne  was  gone, 
and  said,  '  What  is  it  ? '  as  if  she  did  not  know. 

'  O,  nothing,  nothing  ! '  said  Festus  crossly.  '  You 
know  well  enough  what  it  is,  ma'am ;  only  you  make 
pretence  otherwise.  But  I'll  bring  her  to  book  yet. 
You  shall  drop  your  haughty  airs,  my  charmer !  She 
little  thinks  I  have  kept  an  account  of  'em  all.' 

'  But  you  must  treat  her  politely,  sir,'  said  Mrs. 
Loveday,  secretly  pleased  at  these  signs  of  uncontrollable 
affection. 

1  Don't  tell  me  of  politeness  or  generosity,  ma'am ! 
She  is  more  than  a  match  for  me.  She  regularly  gets 
over  me.  I  have  passed  by  this  house  five-and-fifty 
times  since  last  Martinmas,  and  this  is  all  my  reward 
fort ! ' 

'  But  you  will  stay  till  the  rain  is  over,  sir  ? ' 

'  No.  I  don't  mind  rain.  I'm  off  again.  She's  got 
somebody  else  in  her  eye  ! '  And  the  yeoman  went  out, 
slamming  the  door. 

Meanwhile  the  slippery  object  of  his  hopes  had  gone 
along  the  dark  passage,  passed  the  trap  which  opened 
on  the  wheel,  and  through  the  door  into  the  mill,  where 
she  was  met  by  Bob,  who  looked  up  from  the  flour-shoot 
inquiringly  and  said,  '  You  want  me,  Miss  Garland  ?  ' 

'  O  no,'  said  she.  '  I  only  want  to  be  allowed  to 
stand  here  a  few  minutes.' 

He  looked  at  her  to  know  if  she  meant  it,  and  rind- 
ing that  she  did,  returned  to  his  post.  When  the  mill 
had  rumbled  on  a  little  longer  he  came  back. 

{  Bob,'  she  said,  when  she  saw  him  move,  *  remember 
204 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

that  you  are  at  work,  and  have  no  time  to  stand  close 
to  me.' 

He  bowed  and  went  to  his  original  post  again,  Anne 
watching  from  the  window  till  Festus  should  leave.  The 
mill  rumbled  on  as  before,  and  at  last  Bob  came  to  her 
for  the  third  time.  '  Now,  Bob — '  she  began. 

'  On  my  honour,  'tis  only  to  ask  a  question.  Will  you 
walk  with  me  to  church  next  Sunday  afternoon  ? ' 

'  Perhaps  I  will,'  she  said.  But  at  this  moment  the 
yeoman  left  the  house,  and  Anne,  to  escape  further 
parley,  returned  to  the  dwelling  by  the  way  she  had  come. 

Sunday  afternoon  arrived,  and  the  family  was  stand- 
ing at  the  door  waiting  for  the  church  bells  to  begin. 
From  that  side  of  the  house  they  could  see  southward 
across  a  paddock  to  the  rising  ground  further  ahead, 
where  there  grew  a  large  elm-tree,  beneath  whose  boughs 
footpaths  crossed  in  different  directions,  like  meridians 
at  the  pole.  The  tree  was  old,  and  in  summer  the  grass 
beneath  it  was  quite  trodden  away  by  the  feet  of  the  many 
trysters  and  idlers  who  haunted  the  spot.  The  tree  formed 
a  conspicuous  object  in  the  surrounding  landscape. 

While  they  looked,  a  foot  soldier  in  red  uniform  and 
white  breeches  came  along  one  of  the  paths,  and  stop- 
ping beneath  the  elm,  took  from  his  pocket  a  paper, 
which  he  proceeded  to  nail  up  by  the  four  corners  to  the 
trunk.  He  drew  back,  looked  at  it,  and  went  on  his 
way.  Bob  got  his  glass  from  indoors  and  levelled  it  at 
the  placard,  but  after  looking  for  a  long  time  he  could 
make  out  nothing  but  a  lion  and  a  unicorn  at  the  top. 
Anne,  who  was  ready  for  church,  moved  away  from  the 
door,  though  it  was  yet  early,  and  showed  her  intention 
of  going  by  way  of  the  elm.  The  paper  had  been  so  im- 
pressively nailed  up  that  she  was  curious  to  read  it  even 
at  this  theological  time.  Bob  took  the  opportunity  of 
following,  and  reminded  her  of  her  promise. 

*  Then  walk  behind  me  not  at  all  close,'  she  said. 

*  Yes,'  he  replied,  immediately  dropping  behind. 

205 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

The  ludicrous  humility  of  his  manner  led  her  to  add 
playfully  over  her  shoulder,  '  It  serves  you  right,  you 
know.' 

'  I  deserve  anything,  but  I  must  take  the  liberty  to 
say  that  I  hope  my  behaviour  about  Matil — „  in  forget- 
ting you  awhile,  will  not  make  ye  wish  to  keep  me  always 
behind  ? ' 

She  replied  confidentially,  '  Why  I  am  so  earnest  not 
to  be  seen  with  you  is  that  I  may  appear  to  people  to  be 
independent  of  you.  Knowing  what  I  do  of  your  weak- 
nesses I  can  do  no  otherwise.  You  must  be  schooled 
into ' 

'  O,  Anne,'  sighed  Bob,  '  you  hit  me  hard — too  hard  ! 
If  ever  I  do  win  you  I  am  sure  I  shall  have  fairly  earned 
you.' 

'You  are  not  what  you  once  seemed  to  be,'  she 
returned  softly.  '  I  don't  quite  like  to  let  myself  love 
you.'  The  last  words  were  not  very  audible,  and  as 
Bob  was  behind  he  caught  nothing  of  them,  nor  did  he 
see  how  sentimental  she  had  become  all  of  a  sudden. 
They  walked,  the  rest  of  the  way  in  silence,  and  coining 
to  the  tree  read  as  fallows  I—- 


ADDRESS TO  ALL  RANKS  AND  DESCRIPTIONS  OF 
ENGLISHMEN. 

FRIENDS  AND  COUNTRYMEN,,— The  French  are  now  assembling 
the  largest  force  that  ever  was  prepared  to  invade  this  Kingdom, 
with  the  professed  purpose  of  effecting  our  complete  Ruin  and 
Destruction.  They  do  not  disguise  their  intentions,  as  they  have 
often  done  to  other  Countries ;  but  openly  boast  that  they  will 
come  over  in  such  Numbers  as  cannot  be  resisted. 

Wherever  the  French  have  lately  appeared  they  have  spared 
206 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

neither  Rich  nor  Poor,  Old  nor  Young ;  but  like  a  Destructive 
Pestilence  have  laid  waste  and  destroyed  every  Thing  that  before 
was  fair  and  flourishing. 

On  this  occasion  no  man's  service  is  compelled,  but  you  are 
invited  voluntarily  to  come  forward  in  defence  of  everything  that 
is  dear  to  you,  by  entering  your  Names  on  the  Lists  which  are  sent 
to  the  Tything-man  of  every  Parish,  and  engaging  to  act  either  as 
Associated  Volunteers  bearing  Armst  as  Pioneers  and  Labourers,  or 
as  Drivers  of  Waggons. 

As  Associated  Volunteers  you  will  be  called  out  only  once  a 
week,  unless  the  actual  Landing  of  the  Enemy  should  render  your 
further  Services  necessary. 

As  Pioneers  or  Labourers  you  will  be  employed  in  Breaking  up 
Roads  to  hinder  the  Enemy's  advance. 

Those  who  have  Pickaxes,  Spades,  Shovels,  Bill-hooks,  or  other 
Working  Implements,  are  desired  to  mention  them  to  the  Constable 
or  Tything-man  of  their  Parish,  in  order  that  they  may  be  entered 
on  the  Lists  opposite  their  Homes,  to  be  used  if  necessary.  .  .  . 

It  is  thought  desirable  to  give  you  this  Explanation,  that  you 
may  not  be  ignorant  of  the  Duties  to  which  you  may  be  called. 
But  if  the  love  of  true  Liberty  and  honest  Fame  has  not  ceased  to 
animate  the  Hearts  of  Englishmen,  Pay,  though  necessary,  will  be 
the  least  Part  of  your  Reward.  You  will  find  your  best  Recompense 
in  having  done  your  Duty  to  your  King  and  Country  by  driving  back 
or  destroying  your  old  and  implacable  Enemy,  envious  of  your 
Freedom  and  Happiness,  and  therefore  seeking  to  destroy  them  ; 
in  having  protected  your  Wives,  and  Children  from  Death,  or  worse 
than  Death,  which  will  follow  the  Success  of  such  Inveterate  Foes. 

ROUSE,  therefore,  and  unite  as  one  man  in  the  best  of  Causes  I 
United  we  may  defy  the  World  to  conquer  us  ;  but  Victory  will 
never  belong  to  those  who  are  slothful  and  unprepared.* 

1 1  must  go  and  join  at  once ! '  said  Bob. 
Anne  turned  to  him,  all  the  playfulness  gone  from 
her  face.     '  I  wish  we  lived  in  the  north  of  England,  Bob, 
so  as  to  be  further  away  from  where  he'll  land ! '  she 
murmured  uneasily. 

*  Where  we  are  would  be  Paradise  to  me,  if  you  would 
only  make  it  so.' 

Vide  Preface. 
207 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

*  It  is  not  right  to  talk  so  lightly  at  such  a  serious 
time,'  she  thoughtfully  returned,  going  on  towards  the 
church. 

On  drawing  near,  they  saw  through  the  boughs  of  a 
clump  of  intervening  trees,  still  leafless,  but  bursting 
into  buds  of  amber  hue,  a  glittering  which  seemed  to  be 
reflected  from  points  of  steel.  In  a  few  moments  they 
heard  above  the  tender  chiming  of  the  church  bells  the 
loud  voice  of  a  man  giving  words  of  command,  at  which 
all  the  metallic  points  suddenly  shifted  like  the  bristles 
of  a  porcupine,  and  glistened  anew. 

'  'Tis  the  drilling,'  said  Loveday.  '  They  drill  now 
between  the  services,  you  know,  because  they  can't  get 
the  men  together  so  readily  in  the  week.  It  makes  me 
feel  that  I  ought  to  be  doing  more  than  I  am ! ' 

When  they  had  passed  round  the  belt  of  trees,  the 
company  of  recruits  became  visible,  consisting  of  the 
able-bodied  inhabitants  of  the  hamlets  thereabout,  more 
or  less  known  to  Bob  and  Anne.  They  were  assembled 
on  the  green  plot  outside  the  churchyard-gate,  dressed 
in  their  common  clothes,  and  the  sergeant  who  had  been 
putting  them  through  their  drill  was  the  man  who  nailed 
up  the  proclamation.  He  was  now  engaged  in  untying 
a  canvas  money-bag,  from  which  he  drew  forth  a  hand- 
ful of  shillings,  giving  one  to  each  man  in  payment  for 
his  attendance. 

1  Men,  I  dismissed  ye  too  soon — parade,  parade 
again,  I  say,'  he  cried.  'My  watch  is  fast,  I  find. 
There's  another  twenty  minutes  afore  the  worship  of 
God  commences.  Now  all  of  you  that  ha'n't  got  fire- 
locks, fall  in  at  the  lower  end.  Eyes  right  and  dress  ! ' 

As  every  man  was  anxious  to  see  how  the  rest  stood, 
those  at  the  end  of  the  line  pressed  forward  for  that 
purpose,  till  the  line  assumed  the  form  of  a  bow. 

*  Look  at  ye  now  !  Why,  you  are  all  a  crooking  in  ! 
Dress,  dress  ! ' 

They  dressed  forthwith;  but  impelled  by  the  same 
208 


THE   TRUMPET-MAJOR 

motive  they  soon  resumed  their  former  figure,  and  so 
they  were  despairingly  permitted  to  remain. 

'  Now,  I  hope  you'll  have  a  little  patience,'  said  the 
sergeant,  as  he  stood  in  the  centre  of  the  arc,  *  and  pay 
strict  attention  to  the  word  of  command,  just  exactly  as 
I  give  it  out  to  ye ;  and  if  I  should  go  wrong,  I  shall 
be  much  obliged  to  any  friend  who'll  put  me  right 
again,  for  I  have  only  been  in  the  army  three  weeks 
myself,  and  we  are  all  liable  to  mistakes.' 

'  So  we  be,  so  we  be,'  said  the  line  heartily. 

*  'Tention,  the  whole,  then.     Poise  fawlocks  !     Very 
well  done ! ' 

'  Please,  what  must  we  do  that  haven't  got  no  fire- 
locks ! '  said  the  lower  end  of  the  line  in  a  helpless  voice. 

'  Now,  was  ever  such  a  question  !  Why,  you  must 
do  nothing  at  all,  but  think  how  you'd  poise  'em  if  you 
had  'em.  You  middle  men,  that  are  armed  with  hurdle- 
sticks  and  cabbage-stumps  just  to  make-believe,  must 
of  course  use  'em  as  if  they  were  the  real  thing.  Now 
then,  cock  fawlocks  !  Present !  Fire  !  (Pretend  to,  I 
mean,  and  the  same  time  throw  yer  imagination  into  the 
field  o'  battle.)  Very  good— very  good  indeed  ;  except 
that  some  of  you  were  a  little  too  soon,  and  the  rest  a 
little  too  late.' 

*  Please,  sergeant,  can  I  fall   out,  as  I  am  master- 
player  in  the  choir,  and  my  bass-viol  strings  won't  stand 
at  this  time  o'  year,  unless  they  be  screwed  up  a  little 
before  the  passon  comes  in  ?  ' 

'  How  can  you  think  of  such  trifles  as  churchgoing 
at  such  a  time  as  this,  when  your  own  native  country 
is  on  the  point  of  invasion  ? '  said  the  sergeant  sternly. 
'  And,  as  you  know,  the  drill  ends  three  minutes  afore 
church  begins,  and  that's  the  law,  and  it  wants  a  quarter 
of  an  hour  yet.  Now,  at  the  word  Prime,  shake  the 
powder  (supposing  you've  got  it)  into  the  priming-pan, 
three  last  fingers  behind  the  rammer ;  then  shut  your 
pans,  drawing  your  right  arm  nimble-like  towards  your 
209  o 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

body.  I  ought  to  have  told  ye  before  this,  that  at  Hand 
your  katridge,  seize  it  and  bring  it  with  a  quick  motion 
to  your  mouth,  bite  the  top  well  off,  and  don't  swaller 
so  much  of  the  powder  as  to  make  ye  hawk  and  spet 
instead  of  attending  to  your  drill.  What's  that  man 
a-saying  of  in  the  rear  rank  ?  ' 

*  Please,  sir,  'tis  Anthony  Cripplestraw,  wanting  to 
know  how  he's  to  bite  off  his  katridge,  when  he  haven't 
a  tooth  left  in  's  head  ? ' 

'  Man  !  Why,  what's  your  genius  for  war  ?  Hold 
it  up  to  your  right-hand  man's  mouth,  to  be  sure,  and 
let  him  nip  it  off  for  ye.  Well,  what  have  you  to  say, 
Private  Tremlett  ?  Don't  ye  understand  English  ?  ' 

*  Ask  yer  pardon,  sergeant ;   but  what  must  we  in- 
fantry of  the  awkward  squad  do  if  Boney  comes  afore 
we  get  our  firelocks  ?  ' 

4  Take  a  pike,  like  the  rest  of  the  incapables.  You'll 
find  a  store  of  them  ready  in  the  corner  of  the  church 
tower.  Now  then — Shoulder — r — r — r ' 

*  There,  they  be  tinging  in  the  passon !  '  exclaimed 
David,  Miller  Loveday's  man,  who  also  formed  one  of 
the  company,  as  the   bells  changed  from  chiming  all 
three  together  to  a  quick  beating  of  one.     The  whole 
line  drew  a  breath  of  relief,  threw  down   their  arms, 
and  began  running  off. 

1  Well,  then,  I  must  dismiss  ye/  said  the  sergeant. 
*  Come  back — come  back  !  Next  drill  is  Tuesday  after- 
noon at  four.  And,  mind,  if  your  masters  won't  let  ye 
leave  work  soon  enough,  tell  me,  and  I'll  write  a  line  to 
Gover'ment !  'Tention  !  To  the  right — left  wheel,  I 
mean — no,  no — right  wheel.  Mar — r — r — rch  !  ' 

Some  wheeled  to  the  right  and  some  to  the  left,  and 
some  obliging  men,  including  Cripplestraw,  tried  to 
wheel  both  ways. 

4  Stop,  stop ;  try  again !  'Cruits  and  comrades,  un- 
fortunately when  I'm  in  a  hurry  I  can  never  remember 
my  right  hand  from  my  left,  and  never  could  as  a  boy. 
210 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

You  must  excuse  me,  please.  Practice  makes  perfect,  as 
the  saying  is  ;  and,  much  as  I've  learnt  since  I  'listed, 
we  always  find  something  new.  Now  then,  right  wheel ! 
march  !  halt !  Stand  at  ease  !  dismiss  !  I  think  that's 
the  order  o't,  but  I'll  look  in  the  Gover'ment  book  afore 
Tuesday.'  * 

Many  of  the  company  who  had  been  drilled  preferred 
to  go  off  and  spend  their  shillings  instead  of  entering 
the  church;  but  Anne  and  Captain  Bob  passed  in. 
Even  the  interior  of  the  sacred  edifice  was  affected  by 
the  agitation  of  the  times.  The  religion  of  the  country 
had,  in  fact,  changed  from  love  of  God  to  hatred  of 
Napoleon  Buonaparte ;  and,  as  if  to  remind  the  devout 
of  this  alteration,  the  pikes  for  the  pikemen  (all  those 
accepted  men  who  were  not  otherwise  armed)  were  kept 
in  the  church  of  each  parish.  There,  against  the  wall, 
they  always  stood — a  whole  sheaf  of  them,  formed  of 
new  ash  stems,  with  a  spike  driven  in  at  one  end,  the 
stick  being  preserved  from  splitting  by  a  ferule.  And 
there  they  remained,  year  after  year,  in  the  corner  of 
the  aisle,  till  they  were  removed  and  placed  under  the 
gallery  stairs,  and  thence  ultimately  to  the  belfry,  where 
they  grew  black,  rusty,  and  worm-eaten,  and  were  gradu- 
ally stolen  and  carried  oif  by  sextons,  parish  clerks, 
whitewashers,  window-menders,  and  other  church  servants 
for  use  at  home  as  rake-stems,  benefit-club  staves,  and 
pick-handles,  in  which  degraded  situations  they  may  still 
occasionally  be  found. 

But  in  their  new  and  shining  state  they  had  a  terror 
for  Anne,  whose  eyes  were  involuntarily  drawn  towards 
them  as  she  sat  at  Bob's  side  during  the  service,  filling 
her  with  bloody  visions  of  their  possible  use  not  far 
from  the  very  spot  on  which  they  were  now  assembled. 
The  sermon,  too,  was  on  the  subject  of  patriotism ;  so 
that  when  they  came  out  she  began  to  harp  uneasily 

*  Vide  Preface. 
211 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

upon  the  probability  of  their  all  being  driven  from  their 
homes. 

Bob  assured  her  that  with  the  sixty  thousand  regulars, 
the  militia  reserve  of  a  hundred  and  twenty  thousand, 
and  the  three  hundred  thousand  volunteers,  there  was 
not  much  to  fear. 

'  But  I  sometimes  have  a  fear  that  poor  John  will  be 
killed,'  he  continued  after  a  pause.  '  He  is  sure  to  be 
among  the  first  that  will  have  to  face  the  invaders,  and 
the  trumpeters  get  picked  off.' 

*  There  is  the  same  chance  for  him  as  for  the  others,' 
said  Anne. 

'Yes — yes — the  same  chance,  such  as  it  is.  You 
have  never  liked  John  since  that  affair  of  Matilda 
Johnson,  have  you  ? ' 

'  Why  ?  '  she  quickly  asked. 

1  Well,'  said  Bob  timidly,  ( as  it  is  a  ticklish  time  for 
him,  would  it  not  be  worth  while  to  make  up  any  differ- 
ences before  the  crash  comes  ?  ' 

'  I  have  nothing  to  make  up,'  said  Anne,  with  some 
distress.  She  still  fully  believed  the  trumpet-major  to 
have  smuggled  away  Miss  Johnson  because  of  his  own 
interest  in  that  lady,  which  must  have  made  his  pro- 
fessions to  herself  a  mere  pastime;  but  that  very  con- 
duct had  in  it  the  curious  advantage  to  herself  of  setting 
Bob  free. 

'  Since  John  has  been  gone,'  continued  her  com- 
panion, « I  have  found  out  more  of  his  meaning,  and  of 
what  he  really  had  to  do  with  that  woman's  flight.  Did 
you  know  that  he  had  anything  to  do  with  it  ? ' 

'  Yes.' 

*  That  he  got  her  to  go  away  ? ' 

She  looked  at  Bob  with  surprise.  He  was  not  ex- 
asperated with  John,  and  yet  he  knew  so  much  as  this. 

'  Yes,'  she  said ;   '  what  did  it  mean  ?  ' 

He  did  not  explain  to  her  then ;  but  the  possibility 
of  John's  death,  which  had  been  newly  brought  home  to 
212 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

him  by  the  military  events  of  the  day,  determined  him 
to  get  poor  John's  character  cleared.  Reproaching 
himself  for  letting  her  remain  so  long  with  a  mistaken 
idea  of  him,  Bob  went  to  his  father  as  soon  as  they 
got  home,  and  begged  him  to  get  Mrs.  Loveday  to 
tell  Anne  the  true  reason  of  John's  objection  to  Miss 
Johnson  as  a  sister-in-law. 

'  She  thinks  it  is  because  they  were  old  lovers  new 
met,  and  that  he  wants  to  marry  her,'  he  exclaimed  to 
his  father  in  conclusion. 

{  Then  that's  the  meaning  of  the  split  between  Miss 
Nancy  and  Jack,'  said  the  miller. 

'  What,  were  they  any  more  than  common  friends  ?  ' 
asked  Bob  uneasily. 

'  Not  on  her  side,  perhaps.' 

'  Well,  we  must  do  it,'  replied  Bob,  painfully  con- 
scious that  common  justice  to  John  might  bring  them 
into  hazardous  rivalry,  yet  determined  to  be  fair.  '  Tell 
it  all  to  Mrs.  Loveday,  and  get  her  to  tell  Anne.' 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 


A  LETTER 
A   VISITOR 

AND  A  TIN  BOX 

XXIV 

IHE  result  of  the  explanation  upon  Anne  was  bitter 
self-reproach.  She  was  so  sorry  at  having  wronged  the 
kindly  soldier  that  next  morning  she  went  by  herself  to 
the  down,  and  stood  exactly  where  his  tent  had  covered 
the  sod  on  which  he  had  lain  so  many  nights,  thinking 
what  sadness  he  must  have  suffered  because  of  her  at 
the  time  of  packing  up  and  going  away.  After  that  she 
wiped  from  her  eyes  the  tears  of  pity  which  had  come 
there,  descended  to  the  house,  and  wrote  an  impulsive 
letter  to  him,  in  which  occurred  the  following  passages, 
indiscreet  enough  under  the  circumstances  : — 

'  I  find  all  justice,  all  rectitude,  on  your  side,  John ;  and  all 
impertinence,  all  inconsiderateness,  on  mine.  I  am  so  much  con- 
vinced of  your  honour  in  the  whole  transaction,  that  I  shall  for  the 
future  mistrust  myself  in  everything.  And  if  it  be  possible,  when- 
ever I  differ  from  you  on  any  point  I  shall  take  an  hour's  time  for 
consideration  before  I  say  that  I  differ.  If  I  have  lost  your  friend- 
ship, I  have  only  myself  to  thank  for  it ;  but  I  sincerely  hope  that 
you  can  forgive.' 

After  writing  this  she  went  to  the  garden,  where  Bob 
was  shearing  the  spring  grass  from  the  paths.     '  What  is 
214 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

John's  direction  ? '  she  said,  holding  the  sealed  letter  in 
her  hand. 

*  Exonbury  Barracks,'  Bob  faltered,  his  countenance 
sinking. 

She  thanked  him  and  went  indoors.  When  he  came 
in,  later  in  the  day,  he  passed  the  door  of  her  empty 
sitting-room  and  saw  the  letter  on  the  mantelpiece.  He 
disliked  the  sight  of  it.  Hearing  voices  in  the  other 
room,  he  entered  and  found  Anne  and  her  mother  there, 
talking  to  Cripplestraw,  who  had  just  come  in  with  a 
message  from  Squire  Derriman,  requesting  Miss  Garland, 
as  she  valued  the  peace  of  mind  of  an  old  and  troubled 
man,  to  go  at  once  and  see  him. 

'  I  cannot  go,'  she  said,  not  liking  the  risk  that  such  a 
visit  involved. 

An  hour  later  Cripplestraw  shambled  again  into  the 
passage,  on  the  same  errand. 

'  Maister's  very  poorly,  and  he  hopes  that  you'll  come, 
Mis'ess  Anne.  He  wants  to  see  'ee  very  particular  about 
the  French.' 

Anne  would  have  gone  in  a  moment,  but  for  the  fear 
that  some  one  besides  the  farmer  might  encounter  her, 
and  she  answered  as  before. 

Another  hour  passed,  and  the  wheels  of  a  vehicle  were 
heard.  Cripplestraw  had  come  for  the  third  time,  with  a 
horse  and  gig ;  he  was  dressed  in  his  best  clothes,  and 
brought  with  him  on  this  occasion  a  basket  contain- 
ing raisins,  almonds,  oranges,  and  sweet  cakes.  Offering 
them  to  her  as  a  gift  from  the  old  farmer,  he  repeated  his 
request  for  her  to  accompany  him,  the  gig  and  best  mare 
having  been  sent  as  an  additional  inducement. 

'I  believe  the  old  gentleman  is  in  love  with  you, 
Anne,'  said  her  mother. 

'  Why  couldn't  he  drive  down  himself  to  see  me  ? ' 
Anne  inquired  of  Cripplestraw. 

*  He  wants  you  at  the  house,  please.' 
4  Is  Mr.  Festus  with  him  ?  ' 

215 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

1  No ;  he's  away  to  Budmouth/ 

'  I'll  go,'  said  she. 

'  And  I  may  come  and  meet  you  ?  '  said  Bob. 

'  There's  my  letter — what  shall  I  do  about  that  ?  '  she 
said,  instead  of  answering  him.  '  Take  my  letter  to  the 
post-office,  and  you  may  come,'  she  added. 

He  said  yes  and  went  out,  Cripplestraw  retreating  to 
the  door  till  she  should  be  ready. 

'  What  letter  is  it  ?  '  said  her  mother. 

'  Only  one  to  John,'  said  Anne.  '  I  have  asked  him 
to  forgive  my  suspicions.  I  could  do  no  less.' 

'Do  you  want  to  marry  him  ?  '  asked  Mrs.  Loveday 
bluntly. 

1  Mother ! ' 

'  Well ;  he  will  take  that  letter  as  an  encouragement. 
Can't  you  see  that  he  will,  you  foolish  girl  ?  ' . 

Anne  did  see  instantly.  '  Of  course  ! '  she  said.  *  Tell 
Robert  that  he  need  not  go.' 

She  went  to  her  room  to  secure  the  letter.  It  was 
gone  from  the  mantelpiece,  and  on  inquiry  it  was  found 
that  the  miller,  seeing  it  there,  had  sent  David  with  it  to 
Budmouth  hours  ago.  Anne  said  nothing,  and  set  out 
for  Oxwell  Hall  with  Cripplestraw. 

'  William,'  said  Mrs.  Loveday  to  the  miller  when  Anne 
was  gone  and  Bob  had  resumed  his  work  in  the  garden, 
'  did  you  get  that  letter  sent  off  on  purpose  ?  ' 

'Well,  I  did.  I  wanted  to  make  sure  of  it.  John 
likes  her,  and  now  'twill  be  made  up ;  and  why  shouldn't 
he  marry  her  ?  I'll  start  him  in  business,  if  so  be  she'll 
have  him.' 

'  But  she  is  likely  to  marry  Festus  Derriman.' 

'  I  don't  want  her  to  marry  anybody  but  John,'  said 
the  miller  doggedly. 

'  Not  if  she  is  in  love  with  Bob,  and  has  been  for 
years,  and  he  with  her?  asked  his  wife  triumphantly. 

1  In  love  with  Bob,  and  he  with  her  ? '  repeated 
Loveday. 

216 


THE   TRUMPET-MAJOR 

*  Certainly,'  said  she,  going  off  and  leaving  him  to  his 
reflections. 

When  Anne  reached  the  hall  she  found  old  Mr. 
Derriman  in  his  customary  chair.  His  complexion  was 
more  ashen,  but  his  movement  in  rising  at  her  entrance, 
putting  a  chair  and  shutting  the  door  behind  her,  were 
much  the  same  as  usual. 

'Thank  God  you've  come,  my  dear  girl,'  he  said 
earnestly.  'Ah,  you  don't  trip  across  to  read  to  me 
now !  Why  did  ye  cost  me  so  much  to  fetch  you  ?  Fie  ! 
A  horse  and  gig,  and  a  man's  time  in  going  three  times. 
And  what  I  sent  ye  cost  a  good  deal  in  Budmouth 
market,  now  everything  is  so  dear  there,  and  'twould  have 
cost  more  if  I  hadn't  bought  the  raisins  and  oranges 
some  months  ago,  when  they  were  cheaper.  I  tell  you 
this  because  we  are  old  friends,  and  I  have  nobody  else 
to  tell  my  troubles  to.  But  I  don't  begrudge  anything 
to  ye  since  you've  come.' 

'  I  am  not  much  pleased  to  come,  even  now,'  said 
she.  '  What  can  make  you  so  seriously  anxious  to 
see  me?' 

'Well,  you  be  a  good  girl  and  true;  and  I've  been 
thinking  that  of  all  people  of  the  next  generation  that  I 
can  trust,  you  are  the  best.  'T is  my  bonds  and  my  title- 
deeds,  such  as  they  be,  and  the  leases,  you  know,  and  a 
few  guineas  in  packets,  and  more  than  these,  my  will, 
that  I  have  to  speak  about.  Now  do  ye  come  this  way.' 

*  O,  such  things  as  those ! '  she  returned,  with  sur- 
prise.    '  I  don't  understand  those  things  at  all.' 

'  There's  nothing  to  understand.  'Tis  just  this. 
The  French  will  be  here  within  two  months;  that's 
certain.  I  have  it  on  the  best  authority,  that  the  army 
at  Boulogne  is  ready,  the  boats  equipped,  the  plans  laid, 
and  the  First  Consul  only  waits  for  a  tide.  Heaven 
knows  what  will  become  o'  the  men  o'  these  parts ! 
But  most  likely  the  women  will  be  spared.  '  Now  I'll 
show  'ee.' 

217 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

He  led  her  across  the  hall  to  a  stone  staircase  of 
semi-circular  plan,  which  conducted  to  the  cellars. 

'  Down  here  ? '  she  said. 

'  Yes ;  I  must  trouble  ye  to  come  down  here.  I  have 
thought  and  thought  who  is  the  woman  that  can  best 
keep  a  secret  for  six  months,  and  I  say,  "  Anne  Garland." 
You  won't  be  married  before  then  ? ' 

'  O  no  ! '  murmured  the  young  woman. 

'  I  wouldn't  expect  ye  to  keep  a  close  tongue  after 
such  a  thing  as  that.  But  it  will  not  be  necessary.' 

When  they  reached  the  bottom  of  the  steps  he  struck 
a  light  from  a  tinder-box,  and  unlocked  the  middle  one 
of  three  doors  which  appeared  in  the  whitewashed  wall 
opposite.  The  rays  of  the  candle  fell  upon  the  vault  and 
sides  of  a  long  low  cellar,  littered  with  decayed  wood- 
work from  other  parts  of  the  hall,  among  the  rest  stair- 
balusters,  carved  finials,  tracery  panels,  and  wainscoting. 
But  what  most  attracted  her  eye  was  a  small  flagstone 
turned  up  in  the  middle  of  the  floor,  a  heap  of  earth 
beside  it,  and  a  measuring-tape.  Derriman  went  to  the 
corner  of  the  cellar,  and  pulled  out  a  clamped  box  from 
under  the  straw.  '  You  be  rather  heavy,  my  dear,  eh  ?  ' 
he  said,  affectionately  addressing  the  box  as  he  lifted  it. 
*  But  you  are  going  to  be  put  in  a  safe  place,  you  know, 
or  that  rascal  will  get  hold  of  ye,  and  carry  ye  off  and 
ruin  me.'  He  then  with  some  difficulty  lowered  the  box 
into  the  hole,  raked  in  the  earth  upon  it,  and  lowered  the 
flagstone,  which  he  was  a  long  time  in  fixing  to  his 
satisfaction.  Miss  Garland,  who  was  romantically  in- 
terested, helped  him  to  brush  away  the  fragments  of 
loose  earth ;  and  when  he  had  scattered  over  the  floor  a 
little  of  the  straw  that  lay  about,  they  again  ascended  to 
upper  air. 

'  Is  this  all,  sir  ? '  said  Anne. 

'  Just  a  moment  longer,  honey.  Will  you  come  into 
the  great  parlour  ?  ' 

She  followed  him  thither. 
218 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

'  If  anything  happens  to  me  while  the  fighting  is  going 
on — it  may  be  on  these  very  fields — you  will  know  what 
to  do,'  he  resumed.  *  But  first  please  sit  down  again, 
there's  a  dear,  whilst  I  write  what's  in  my  head.  See, 
there's  the  best  paper,  and  a  new  quill  that  I've  afforded 
myself  for't.' 

'  What  a  strange  business !  I  don't  think  I  much 
like  it,  Mr.  Derriman,'  she  said,  seating  herself. 

He  had  by  this  time  begun  to  write,  and  murmured 
as  he  wrote — 

'  "  Twenty-three  and  a  half  from  N.W.  Sixteen  and 
three-quarters  from  N.E." — There,  that's  all.  Now  I 
seal  it  up  and  give  it  to  you  to  keep  safe  till  I  ask  ye 
for  it,  or  you  hear  of  my  being  trampled  down  by  the 
enemy.' 

1  What  does  it  mean  ? '  she  asked,  as  she  received  the 
paper. 

'  Clk  !  Ha  !  ha !  Why,  that's  the  distance  of  the  box 
from  the  two  corners  of  the  cellar.  I  measured  it  before 
you  came.  And,  my  honey,  to  make  all  sure,  if  the 
French  soldiery  are  after  ye,  tell  your  mother  the  mean- 
ing on't,  or  any  other  friend,  in  case  they  should  put  ye 
to  death,  and  the  secret  be  lost.  But  that  I  am  sure  I 
hope  they  won't  do,  though  your  pretty  face  will  be  a  sad 
bait  to  the  soldiers.  I  often  have  wished  you  was  my 
daughter,  honey ;  and  yet  in  these  times  the  less  cares 
a  man  has  the  better,  so  I  am  glad  you  bain't.  Shall 
my  man  drive  you  home  ? ' 

1  No,  no/  she  said,  much  depressed  by  the  words 
he  had  uttered.  '  I  can  find  my  way.  You  need  not 
trouble  to  come  down.' 

'  Then  take  care  of  the  paper.  And  if  you  outlive 
me,  you'll  find  I  have  not  forgot  you.' 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 


FESTUS  SHOWS 

HIS  LOVE 

XXV 

FESTUS  DERRIMAN  had  remained  in  the  Royal 
watering-place  all  that  day,  his  horse  being  sick  at 
stables ;  but,  wishing  to  coax  or  bully  from  his  uncle 
a  remount  for  the  coming  summer,  he  set  off  on  foot 
for  Oxwell  early  in  the  evening.  When  he  drew  near 
to  the  village,  or  rather  to  the  hall,  which  was  a  mile 
from  the  village,  he  overtook  a  slim,  quick-eyed  woman, 
sauntering  along  at  a  leisurely  pace.  She  was  fashion- 
ably dressed  in  a  green  spencer,  with  '  Mameluke '  sleeves, 
and  wore  a  velvet  Spanish  hat  and  feather. 

1  Good  afternoon  t'ye,  ma'am/  said  Festus,  throwing 
a  sword-and-pistol  air  into  his  greeting.  '  You  are  out 
for  a  walk  ? ' 

4 1  am  out  for  a  walk,  captain,'  said  the  lady,  who 
had  criticized  him  from  the  crevice  of  her  eye,  without 
seeming  to  do  much  more  than  continue  her  demure 
look  forward,  and  gave  the  title  as  a  sop  to  his  apparent 
character. 

1  From  the  town  ? — I'd  swear  it,  ma'am ;  'pon  my 
honour  I  would ! ' 

'  Yes,  I  am  from  the  town,  sir,'  said  she. 

'  Ah,  you  are  a  visitor !  I  know  every  one  of  the 
220 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

regular  inhabitants ;  we  soldiers  are  in  and  out  there 
continually.  Festus  Derriman,  Yeomanry  Cavalry,  you 
know.  The  fact  is,  the  watering-place  is  under  our 
charge ;  the  folks  will  be  quite  dependent  upon  us  for 
their  deliverance  in  the  coming  struggle.  We  hold  our 
lives  in  our  hands,  and  theirs,  I  may  say,  in  our  pockets. 
What  made  you  come  here,  ma'am,  at  such  a  critical 
time  ? ' 

'  I  don't  see  that  it  is  such  a  critical  time  ?  ' 

'  But  it  is,  though ;  and  so  you'd  say  if  you  was  as 
much  mixed  up  with  the  military  affairs  of  the  nation  as 
some  of  us.' 

The  lady  smiled.  '  The  King  is  coming  this  year, 
anyhow,'  said  she. 

'  Never  ! '  said  Festus  firmly.  '  Ah,  you  are  one  of 
the  attendants  at  court  perhaps,  come  on  ahead  to  get 
the  King's  chambers  ready,  in  case  Boney  should  not 
land  ? ' 

'  No,'  she  said ;  '  I  am  connected  with  the  theatre, 
though  not  just  at  the  present  moment.  I  have  been 
out  of  luck  for  the  last  year  or  two ;  but  I  have  fetched 
up  again.  I  join  the  company  when  they  arrive  for  the 
season.' 

Festus  surveyed  her  with  interest.  <  Faith  !  and  is  it 
so  ?  Well,  ma'am,  what  part  do  you  play  ?  ' 

'  I  am  mostly  the  leading  lady — the  heroine,'  she 
said,  drawing  herself  up  with  dignity. 

'  I'll  come  and  have  a  look  at  ye  if  all's  well,  and  the 
landing  is  put  off — hang  me  if  I  don't ! — Hullo,  hullo, 
what  do  I  see  ?  ' 

His  eyes  were  stretched  towards  a  distant  field,  which 
Anne  Garland  was  at  that  moment  hastily  crossing,  on 
her  way  from  the  hall  to  Overcombe. 

*  I  must  be  off.  Good-day  to  ye,  dear  creature  ! '  he 
exclaimed,  hurrying  forward. 

The  lady  said,  *  O,  you  droll  monster ! '  as  she 
smiled  and  watched  him  stride  ahead. 

221 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

Festus  bounded  on  over  the  hedge,  across  the  inter- 
vening patch  of  green,  and  into  the  field  which  Anne 
was  still  crossing.  In  a  moment  or  two  she  looked 
back,  and  seeing  the  well-known  herculean  figure  of  the 
yeoman  behind  her  felt  rather  alarmed,  though  she  de- 
termined to  show  no  difference  in  her  outward  carriage. 
But  to  maintain  her  natural  gait  was  beyond  her  powers. 
She  spasmodically  quickened  her  pace ;  fruitlessly,  how- 
ever, for  he  gained  upon  her,  and  when  within  a  few 
strides  of  her  exclaimed,  « Well,  my  darling  1 '  Anne 
started  off  at  a  run. 

Festus  was  already  out  of  breath,  and  soon  found 
that  he  was  not  likely  to  overtake  her.  On  she  went, 
without  turning  her  head,  till  an  unusual  noise  behind 
compelled  her  to  look  round.  His  face  was  in  the  act 
of  falling  back ;  he  swerved  on  one  side,  and  dropped 
like  a  log  upon  a  convenient  hedgerow-bank  which  bor- 
dered the  path.  There  he  lay  quite  still. 

Anne  was  somewhat  alarmed ;  and  after  standing  at 
gaze  for  two  or  three  minutes,  drew  nearer  to  him,  a 
step  and  a  half  at  a  time,  wondering  and  doubting,  as  a 
meek  ewe  draws  near  to  some  strolling  vagabond  who 
flings  himself  on  the  grass  near  the  flock. 

'  He  is  in  a  swoon  ! '  she  murmured. 

Her  heart  beat  quickly,  and  she  looked  around. 
Nobody  was  in  sight ;  she  advanced  a  step  nearer  still 
and  observed  him  again.  Apparently  his  face  was 
turning  to  a  livid  hue,  and  his  breathing  had  become 
obstructed. 

'  Tis  not  a  swoon ;  'tis  apoplexy !  '  she  said,  in  deep 
distress.  'I  ought  to  untie  his  neck.'  But  she  was 
afraid  to  do  this,  and  only  drew  a  little  closer  still. 

Miss  Garland  was  now  within  three  feet  of  him, 
whereupon  the  senseless  man,  who  could  hold  his  breath 
no  longer,  sprang  to  his  feet  and  darted  at  her,  saying, 
1  Ha !  ha !  a  scheme  for  a  kiss  ! ' 

She  felt  his  arm  slipping  round  her  neck ;  but, 
222 


THE   TRUMPET-MAJOR 

twirling  about  with  amazing  dexterity,  she  wriggled  from 
his  embrace  and  ran  away  along  the  field.  The  force 
with  which  she  had  extricated  herself  was  sufficient  to 
throw  Festus  upon  the  grass,  and  by  the  time  that  he 
got  upon  his  legs  again  she  was  many  yards  off.  Utter- 
ing a  word  which  was  not  exactly  a  blessing,  he  immedi- 
ately gave  chase ;  and  thus  they  ran  till  Anne  entered  a 
meadow  divided  down  the  middle  by  a  brook  about  six 
feet  wide.  A  narrow  plank  was  thrown  loosely  across 
at  the  point  where  the  path  traversed  this  stream,  and 
when  Anne  reached  it  she  at  once  scampered  over.  At 
the  other  side  she  turned  her  head  to  gather  the  pro- 
babilities of  the  situation,  which  were  that  Festus 
Derriman  would  overtake  her  even  now.  By  a  sudden 
forethought  she  stooped,  seized  the  end  of  the  plank, 
and  endeavoured  to  drag  it  away  from  the  opposite  bank. 
But  the  weight  was  too  great  for  her  to  do  more  than 
slightly  move  it,  and  with  a  desperate  sigh  she  ran  on 
again,  having  lost  many  valuable  seconds. 

But  her  attempt,  though  ineffectual  in  dragging  it 
down,  had  been  enough  to  unsettle  the  little  bridge; 
and  when  Derriman  reached  the  middle,  which  he  did 
half  a  minute  later,  the  plank  turned  over  on  its  edge, 
tilting  him  bodily  into  the  river.  The  water  was  not 
remarkably  deep,  but  as  the  yeoman  fell  flat  on  his 
stomach  he  was  completely  immersed ;  and  it  was  some 
time  before  he  could  drag  himself  out.  When  he  arose, 
dripping  on  the  bank,  and  looked  around,  Anne  had 
vanished  from  the  mead.  Then  Festus's  eyes  glowed 
like  carbuncles,  and  he  gave  voice  to  fearful  imprecations, 
shaking  his  fist  in  the  soft  summer  air  towards  Anne,  in 
a  way  that  was  terrible  for  any  maiden  to  behold. 
Wading  back  through  the  stream,  he  walked  along  its 
bank  with  a  heavy  tread,  the  water  running  from  his 
coat-tails,  wrists,  and  the  tips  of  his  ears,  in  silvery 
dribbles,  that  sparkled  pleasantly  in  the  sun.  Thus  he 
hastened  away,  and  went  round  by  a  by-path  to  the  hall. 
223 


THE   TRUMPET-MAJOR 

Meanwhile  the  author  of  his  troubles  was  rapidly 
drawing  nearer  to  the  mill,  and  soon,  to  her  inex- 
pressible delight,  she  saw  Bob  coming  to  meet  her. 
She  had  heard  the  flounce,  and,  feeling  more  secure 
from  her  pursuer,  had  dropped  her  pace  to  a  quick 
walk.  No  sooner  did  she  reach  Bob  than,  overcome 
by  the  excitement  of  the  moment,  she  flung  herself  into 
his  arms.  Bob  instantly  enclosed  her  in  an  embrace 
so  very  thorough  that  there  was  no  possible  danger  of 
her  falling,  whatever  degree  of  exhaustion  might  have 
given  rise  to  her  somewhat  unexpected  action ;  and  in 
this  attitude  they  silently  remained,  till  it  was  borne  in 
upon  Anne  that  the  present  was  the  first  time  in  her 
life  that  she  had  ever  been  in  such  a  position.  Her 
face  then  burnt  like  a  sunset,  and  she  did  not  know 
how  to  look  up  at  him.  Feeling  at  length  quite  safe, 
she  suddenly  resolved  not  to  give  way  to  her  first  im- 
pulse to  tell  him  the  whole  of  what  had  happened,  lest 
there  should  be  a  dreadful  quarrel  and  fight  between 
Bob  and  the  yeoman,  and  great  difficulties  caused  in 
the  Loveday  family  on  her  account,  the  miller  having 
important  wheat  transactions  with  the  Derrimans. 

'  You  seem  frightened,  dearest  Anne,'  said  Bob 
tenderly. 

1  Yes,'  she  replied.  '  I  saw  a  man  I  did  not  like 
the  look  of,  and  he  was  inclined  to  follow  me.  But, 
worse  than  that,  I  am  troubled  about  the  French.  O 
Bob  !  I  am  afraid  you  will  be  killed,  and  my  mother, 
and  John,  and  your  father,  and  all  of  us  hunted  down  ! ' 

'  Now  I  have  told  you,  dear  little  heart,  that  it 
cannot  be.  We  shall  drive  'em  into  the  sea  after  a 
battle  or  two,  even  if  they  land,  which  I  don't  believe 
they  will.  We've  got  ninety  sail  of  the  line,  and  though 
it  is  rather  unfortunate  that  we  should  have  declared 
war  against  Spain  at  this  ticklish  time,  there's  enough 
for  all.'  And  Bob  went  into  elaborate  statistics  of  the 
navy,  army,  militia,  and  volunteers,  to  prolong  the  time 
224 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

of  holding  her.  When  he  had  done  speaking  he  drew 
rather  a  heavy  sigh. 

'  What's  the  matter,  Bob  ?  ' 

1 1  haven't  been  yet  to  offer  myself  as  a  sea-fencible, 
and  I  ought  to  have  done  it  long  ago.' 

'  You  are  only  one.     Surely  they  can  do  without  you  ?  ' 

Bob  shook  his  head.  She  arose  from  her  restful 
position,  her  eye  catching  his  with  a  shamefaced  expres- 
sion of  having  given  way  at  last.  Loveday  drew  from 
his  pocket  a  paper,  and  said,  as  they  slowly  walked  on, 
'  Here's  something  to  make'  us  brave  and  patriotic.  I 
bought  it  in  Budmouth.  Isn't  it  a  stirring  picture  ?  ' 

It  was  a  hieroglyphic  profile  of  Napoleon.  The  hat 
represented  a  maimed  French  eagle ;  the  face  was  in- 
geniously made  up  of  human  carcases,  knotted  and 
writhing  together  in  such  directions  as  to  form  a  physi- 
ognomy ;  a  band,  or  stock,  shaped  to  resemble  the 
English  Channel,  encircled  his  throat,  and  seemed  to 
choke  him  ;  his  epaulette  was  a  hand  tearing  a  cobweb 
that  represented  the  treaty  of  peace  with  England  ;  and 
his  ear  was  a  woman  crouching  over  a  dying  child.* 

1  It  is  dreadful ! '  said  Anne.     '  I  don't  like  to  see  it.' 

She  had  recovered  from  her  emotion,  and  walked 
along  beside  him  with  a  grave,  subdued  face.  Bob  did 
not  like  to  assume  the  privileges  of  an  accepted  lover 
and  draw  her  hand  through  his  arm ;  for,  conscious  that 
she  naturally  belonged  to  a  politer  grade  than  his  own, 
he  feared  lest  her  exhibition  of  tenderness  were  an  im- 
pulse which  cooler  moments  might  regret.  A  perfect 
Paul-and- Virginia  life  had  not  absolutely  set  in  for  him  as 
yet,  and  it  was  not  to  be  hastened  by  force.  When  they 
had  passed  over  the  bridge  into  the  mill-front  they  saw 
the  miller  standing  at  the  door  with  a  face  of  concern. 

*  Since  you  have  been  gone,'  he  said,  '  a  Government 
man  has  been  here,  and  to  all  the  houses,  taking  down 

*   Vide  Preface. 

225  P 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

the  numbers  of  the  women  and  children,  and  their  ages, 
and  the  number  of  horses  and  waggons  that  can  be  mus- 
tered, in  case  they  have  to  retreat  inland,  out  of  the  way 
of  the  invading  army.' 

The  little  family  gathered  themselves  together,  all 
feeling  the  crisis  more  seriously  than  they  liked  to  express. 
Mrs.  Loveday  thought  how  ridiculous  a  thing  social 
ambition  was  in  such  a  conjuncture  as  this,  and  vowed 
that  she  would  leave  Anne  to  love  where  she  would. 
Anne,  too,  forgot  the  little  peculiarities  of  speech  and 
manner  in  Bob  and  his  father,  which  sometimes  jarred  for 
a  moment  upon  her  more  refined  sense,  and  was  thankful 
for  their  love  and  protection  in  this  looming  trouble. 

On  going  upstairs  she  remembered  the  paper  which 
Farmer  Derriman  had  given  her,  and  searched  in  her 
bosom  for  it.  She  could  not  find  it  there.  '  I  must 
have  left  it  on  the  table,'  she  said  to  herself.  It  did  not 
matter ;  she  remembered  every  word.  She  took  a  pen 
and  wrote  a  duplicate,  which  she  put  safely  away. 

But  Anne  was  wrong.  She  had,  after  all,  placed  the 
paper  where  she  supposed,  and  there  it  ought  to  have 
been.  But  in  escaping  from  Festus,  when  he  feigned 
apoplexy,  it  had  fallen  out  upon  the  grass.  Five 
minutes  after  that  event,  when  pursuer  and  pursued 
<vere  two  or  three  fields  ahead,  the  gaily-dressed  woman 
whom  the  yeoman  had  overtaken,  peeped  cautiously 
through  the  stile  into  the  corner  of  the  field  which 
had  been  the  scene  of  the  scramble;  and  seeing  the 
paper  she  climbed  over,  secured  it,  loosened  the  wafer 
without  tearing  the  sheet,  and  read  the  memorandum 
within.  Unable  to  make  anything  of  its  meaning,  the 
saunterer  put  it  in  her  pocket,  and,  dismissing  the 
matter  from  her  mind,  went  on  by  the  by-path  which 
led  to  the  back  of  the  mill.  Here,  behind  the  hedge, 
she  stood  and  surveyed  the  old  building  for  some  time, 
after  which  she  meditatively  turned,  and  retraced  her 
steps  towards  the  Royal  watering-place. 
226 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 


THE  ALARM 


XXVI 

±HE  night  which  followed  was  historic  and  memorable. 
Mrs.  Loveday  was  awakened  by  the  boom  of  a  distant 
gun  :  she  told  the  miller,  and  they  listened  awhile.  The 
sound  was  not  repeated,  but  such  was  the  state  of  their 
feelings  that  Mr.  Loveday  went  to  Bob's  room  and  asked 
if  he  had  heard  it.  Bob  was  wide  awake,  looking  out  of 
the  window ;  he  had  heard  the  ominous  sound,  and  was 
inclined  to  investigate  the  matter.  While  the  father  and 
son  were  dressing  they  fancied  that  a  glare  seemed  to  be 
rising  in  the  sky  in  the  direction  of  the  beacon  hilt 
Not  wishing  to  alarm  Anne  and  her  mother,  the  miller 
assured  them  that  Bob  and  himself  were  merely  going 
out  of  doors  to  inquire  into  the  cause  of  the  report,  after 
which  they  plunged  into  the  gloom  together.  A  few 
steps'  progress  opened  up  more  of  the  sky,  which,  as  they 
had  thought,  was  indeed  irradiated  by  a  lurid  light ;  but 
whether  it  came  from  the  beacon  or  from  a  more  distant 
point  they  were  unable  to  clearly  tell.  They  pushed  on 
rapidly  towards  higher  ground. 

Their  excitement  was  merely  of  a  piece  with  that  of  all 
men  at  this  critical  juncture.     Everywhere  expectation 
was  at  fever  heat.     For  the  last  year  or  two  only  five-and- 
227 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

twenty  miles  of  shallow  water  had  divided  quiet  English 
homesteads  from  an  enemy's  army  of  a  hundred  and 
fifty  thousand  men.  We  had  taken  the  matter  lightly 
enough,  eating  and  drinking  as  in  the  days  of  Noe,  and 
singing  satires  without  end.  We  punned  on  Buonaparte 
and  his  gunboats,  chalked  his  effigy  on  stage-coaches, 
and  published  the  same  in  prints.  Still,  between  these 
bursts  of  hilarity,  it  was  sometimes  recollected  that 
England  was  the  only  European  country  which  had  not 
succumbed  to  the  mighty  little  man  who  was  less  than 
human  in  feeling,  and  more  than  human  in  will;  that 
our  spirit  for  resistance  was  greater  than  our  strength ; 
and  that  the  Channel  was  often  calm.  Boats  built  of 
wood  which  was  greenly  growing  in  its  native  forest 
three  days  before  it  was  bent  as  wales  to  their  sides,  were 
ridiculous  enough ;  but  they  might  be,  after  all,  sufficient 
for  a  single  trip  between  two  visible  shores.  —- 

The  English  watched  Buonaparte  in  these  preparations, 
and  Buonaparte  watched  the  English.  At  the  distance  of 
Boulogne  details  were  lost,  but  we  were  impressed  on 
fine  days  by  the  novel  sight  of  a  huge  army  moving  and 
twinkling  like  a  school  of  mackerel  under  the  rays  of  the 
sun.  The  regular  way  of  passing  an  afternoon  in  the 
coast  towns  was  to  stroll  up  to  the  signal  posts  and  chat 
with  the  lieutenant  on  duty  there  about  the  latest  inimi- 
cal object  seen  at  sea.  About  once  a  week  there  ap- 
peared in  the  newspapers  either  a  paragraph  concerning 
some  adventurous  English  gentleman  who  had  sailed  out 
in  a  pleasure-boat  till  he  lay  near  enough  to  Boulogne  to 
see  Buonaparte  standing  on  the  heights  among  his  mar- 
shals ;  or  else  some  lines  about  a  mysterious  stranger 
with  a  foreign  accent,  who,  after  collecting  a  vast  deal 
of  information  on  our  resources,  had  hired  a  boat  at 
a  southern  port,  and  vanished  with  it  towards  France 
before  his  intention  could  be  divined. 

In  forecasting  his  grand  venture,  Buonaparte  postu- 
lated the  help  of  Providence  to  a  remarkable  degree. 
228 


THE   TRUMPET  MAJOR 

Just  at  the  hour  when  his  troops  were  on  board  the 
flat-bottomed  boats  and  ready  to  sail,  there  was  to  be 
a  great  fog,  that  should  spread  a  vast  obscurity  over 
the  length  and  breadth  of  the  Channel,  and  keep  the 
English  blind  to  events  on  the  other  side.  The  fog  was 
to  last  twenty-four  hours,  after  which  it  might  clear 
away.  A  dead  calm  was  to  prevail  simultaneously  with 
the  fog,  with  the  twofold  object  of  affording  the  boats 
easy  transit  and  dooming  our  ships  to  lie  motionless. 
Thirdly,  there  was  to  be  a  spring  tide,  which  should 
combine  its  manoeuvres  with  those  of  the  fog  and  calm. 

Among  the  many  thousands  of  minor  Englishmen 
whose  lives  were  affected  by  these  tremendous  designs 
may  be  numbered  our  old  acquaintance  Corporal  Tul- 
lidge,  who  sported  the  crushed  arm,  and  poor  old  Simon 
Burden,  the  dazed  veteran  who  had  fought  at  Minden. 
Instead  of  sitting  snugly  in  the  settle  of  the  Old  Ship,  in 
the  village  adjoining  Overcombe,  they  were  obliged  to 
keep  watch  on  the  hill.  They  made  themselves  as  com- 
fortable as  was  possible  in  the  circumstances,  dwelling  in 
a  hut  of  clods  and  turf,  with  a  brick  chimney  for  cooking. 
Here  they  observed  the  nightly  progress  of  the  moon 
and  stars,  grew  familiar  with  the  heaving  of  moles,  the 
dancing  of  rabbits  on  the  hillocks,  the  distant  hoot  of 
owls,  the  bark  of  foxes  from  woods  further  inland ;  but  saw 
not  a  sign  of  the  enemy.  As,  night  after  night,  they 
walked  round  the  two  ricks  which  it  was  their  duty  to 
fire  at  a  signal — one  being  of  furze  for  a  quick  flame, 
the  other  of  turf,  for  a  long,  slow  radiance  —  they 
thought  and  talked  of  old  times,  and  drank  patriotically 
from  a  large  wood  flagon  that  was  filled  every  day. 

Bob  and  his  father  soon  became  aware  that  the 
light  was  from  the  beacon.  By  the  time  that  they 
reached  the  top  it  was  one  mass  of  towering  flame, 
from  which  the  sparks  fell  on  the  green  herbage  like  a 
fiery  dew  •  the  forms  of  the  two  old  men  being  seen  pass- 
ing and  repassing  in  the  midst  of  it.  The  Lovedays, 
229 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

who  came  up  on  the  smoky  side,  regarded  the  scene  for 
a  moment,  and  then  emerged  into  the  light. 

1  Who  goes  there  ?  '  said  Corporal  Tullidge,  shoulder- 
ing a  pike  with  his  sound  arm.  '  O,  'tis  neighbour 
Loveday  ! ' 

'  Did  you  get  your  signal  to  fire  it  from  the  east  ? ' 
said  the  miller  hastily. 

'  No  ;  from  Abbotsea  Beach.' 

'  But  you  are  not  to  go  by  a  coast  signal ! ' 

'  Chok'  it  all,  wasn't  the  Lord-Lieutenant's  direction, 
whenever  you  see  Rainbarrow's  Beacon  burn  to  the 
nor'east'ard,  or  Haggardon  to  the  nor'west'ard,  or  the 
actual  presence  of  the  enemy  on  the  shore  ? ' 

'  But  is  he  here  ?  ' 

'  No  doubt  o't !  The  beach  light  is  only  just 
gone  down,  and  Simon  heard  the  guns  even  better 
than  I.' 

'  Hark,  hark  !  I  hear  'em  ! '  said  Bob. 

They  listened  with  parted  lips,  the  night  wind  blowing 
through  Simon  Burden's  few  teeth  as  through  the  ruins 
of  Stonehenge.  From  far  down  on  the  lower  levels  came 
the  noise  of  wheels  and  the  tramp  of  horses  upon  the 
turnpike  road. 

'Well,  there  must  be  something  in  it,'  said  Miller 
Loveday  gravely.  '  Bob,  we'll  go  home  and  make  the 
women-folk  safe,  and  then  I'll  don  my  soldier's  clothes 
and  be  off.  God  knows  where  our  company  will 
assemble ! ' 

They  hastened  down  the  hill,  and  on  getting  into  the 
road  waited  and  listened  again.  Travellers  began  to 
come  up  and  pass  them  in  vehicles  of  all  descriptions. 
It  was  difficult  to  attract  their  attention  in  the  dim  light, 
but  by  standing  on  the  top  of  a  wall  which  fenced  the 
road  Bob  was  at  last  seen. 

'  What's  the  matter  ? '  he  cried  to  a  butcher  who 
was  flying  past  in  his  cart,  his  wife  sitting  behind  him 
without  a  bonnet. 

230 


THE   TRUMPET-MAJOR 

1  The  French  have  landed ! '  said  the  man,  without 
drawing  rein. 

'  Where  ?  '  shouted  Bob. 

1  In  West  Bay ;  and  all  Budmouth  is  in  uproar ! ' 
replied  the  voice,  now  faint  in  the  distance. 

Bob  and  his  father  hastened  on  till  they  reached  their 
own  house.  As  they  had  expected,  Anne  and  her 
mother,  in  common  with  most  of  the  people,  were  both 
dressed,  and  stood  at  the  door  bonneted  and  shawled, 
listening  to  the  traffic  on  the  neighbouring  highway, 
Mrs.  Loveday  having  secured  what  money  and  small 
valuables  they  possessed  in  a  huge  pocket  which  extended 
all  round  her  waist,  and  added  considerably  to  her  weight 
and  diameter. 

'  'Tis  true  enough,'  said  the  miller  :  '  he's  come  !  You 
and  Anne  and  the  maid  must  be  off  to  Cousin  Jim's  at 
King's-Bere,  and  when  you  get  there  you  must  do  as 
they  do.  I  must  assemble  with  the  company.' 

<  And  I  ? '  said  Bob. 

'  Thou'st  better  run  to  the  church,  and  take  a  pike 
before  they  be  all  gone.' 

The  horse  was  put  into  the  gig,  and  Mrs.  Loveday, 
Anne,  and  the  servant-maid  were  hastily  packed  into  the 
vehicle,  the  latter  taking  the  reins ;  David's  duties  as 
a  fighting-man  forbidding  all  thought  of  his  domestic 
offices  now.  Then  the  silver  tankard,  teapot,  pair  of 
candlesticks  like  Ionic  colums,  and  other  articles  too 
large  to  be  pocketed  were  thrown  into  a  basket  and  put 
up  behind.  Then  came  the  leave-taking,  which  was  as 
sad  as  it  was  hurried.  Bob  kissed  Anne,  and  there  was 
no  affectation  in  her  receiving  that  mark  of  affection  as 
she  said  through  her  tears,  '  God  bless  you  ! '  At  last 
they  moved  off  in  the  dim  light  of  dawn,  neither  of  the 
three  women  knowing  which  road  they  were  to  take,  but 
trusting  to  chance  to  find  it. 

As  soon  as  they  were  out  of  sight  Bob  went  off  for 
a  pike,  and  his  father,  first  new-flinting  his  firelock,  pro- 
231 


THE   TRUMPET  MAJOR 

ceeded  to  don  his  uniform,  pipe-claying  his  breeches  with 
such  cursory  haste  as  to  bespatter  his  black  gaiters  with 
the  same  ornamental  compound.  Finding  when  he  was 
ready  that  no  bugle  had  as  yet  sounded,  he  went  with 
David  to  the  cart-house,  dragged  out  the  waggon,  and 
put  therein  some  of  the  most  useful  and  easily-handled 
goods,  in  case  there  might  be  an  opportunity  for  con- 
veying them  away.  By  the  time  this  was  done  and  the 
waggon  pushed  back  and  locked  in,  Bob  had  returned 
with  his  weapon,  somewhat  mortified  at  being  doomed 
to  this  low  form  of  defence.  The  miller  gave  his  son  a 
parting  grasp  of  the  hand,  and  arranged  to  meet  him  at 
King's-Bere  at  the  first  opportunity  if  the  news  were 
true ;  if  happily  false,  here  at  their  own  house. 

1  Bother  it  all ! '  he  exclaimed,  looking  at  his  stock  of 
flints. 

'  What  ?  '  said  Bob. 

'  I've  got  no  ammunition  :  not  a  blessed  round  ! ' 

4  Then's  what's  the  use  of  going  ?  '  asked  his  son. 

The  miller  paused.  '  O,  I'll  go,'  he  said.  '  Perhaps 
somebody  will  lend  me  a  little  if  I  get  into  a  hot 
corner  ? ' 

*  Lend  ye  a  little  !  Father,  you  was  always  so  simple  ! ' 
said  Bob  reproachfully. 

'  Well — I  can  bagnet  a  few,  anyhow,'  said  the  miller. 

The  bugle  had  been  blown  ere  this,  and  Loveday  the 
father  disappeared  towards  the  place  of  assembly,  his 
empty  cartridge-box  behind  him.  Bob  seized  a  brace  of 
loaded  pistols  which  he  had  brought  home  from  the  ship, 
and,  armed  with  these  and  a  pike,  he  locked  the  door 
and  sallied  out  again  towards  the  turnpike  road. 

By  this  time  the  yeomanry  of  the  district  were  also 
on  the  move,  and  among  them  Festus  Derriman,  who 
was  sleeping  at  his  uncle's,  and  had  been  awakened  by 
Cripplestraw.  About  the  time  when  Bob  and  his  father 
were  descending  from  the  beacon  the  stalwart  yeoman 
was  standing  in  the  stable-yard  adjusting  his  straps, 
232 


THE   TRUMPET-MAJOR 

while  Cripplestraw  saddled  the  horse.  Festus  clanked 
up  and  down,  looked  gloomily  at  the  beacon,  heard  the 
retreating  carts  and  carriages,  and  called  Cripplestraw  to 
him,  who  came  from  the  stable  leading  the  horse  at  the 
same  moment  that  Uncle  Benjy  peeped  unobserved  from 
a  mullioned  window  above  their  heads,  the  distant  light 
of  the  beacon  fire  touching  up  his  features  to  the  com- 
plexion of  an  old  brass  clock-face. 

1 1  think  that  before  I  start,  Cripplestraw,'  said  Festus, 
whose  lurid  visage  was  undergoing  a  bleaching  process 
curious  to  look  upon,  '  you  shall  go  on  to  Budmouth, 
and  make  a  bold  inquiry  whether  the  cowardly  enemy  is 
on  shore  as  yet,  or  only  looming  in  the  bay.' 

*  I'd  go  in  a  moment,  sir,'  said  the  other,  '  if  I  hadn't 
my  bad  leg  again.     I  should  have  joined  my  company 
afore  this ;  but  they  said  at  last  drill  that  I  was  too  old. 
So  I  shall  wait  up  in  the  hay-loft  for  tidings  as  soon  as  I 
have  packed  you  off,  poor  gentleman  ! ' 

*  Do  such  alarms  as  these,  Cripplestraw,  ever  happen 
without  foundation  ?    Buonaparte  is  a  wretch,  a  miserable 
wretch,  and  this  may  be  only  a  false  alarm  to  disappoint 
such  as  me  ?  ' 

*  O  no,  sir ;  O  no  ! ' 

1  But  sometimes  there  are  false  alarms  ?  ' 

'  Well,  sir,  yes.  There  was  a  pretended  sally  o'  gun- 
boats last  year.' 

'  And  was  there  nothing  else  pretended — something 
more  like  this,  for  instance  ?  ' 

Cripplestraw  shook  his  head.  *  I  notice  yer  modesty, 
Mr.  Festus,  in  making  light  of  things.  But  there  never 
was,  sir.  You  may  depend  upon  it  he's  come.  Thank 
God,  my  duty  as  a  Local  don't  require  me  to  go  to  the 
front,  but  only  the  valiant  men  like  my  master.  Ah,  if 
Boney  could  only  see  'ee  now,  sir,  he'd  know  too  well 
there  is  nothing  to  be  got  from  such  a  determined 
skilful  officer  but  blows  and  musket-balls  ! ' 

{ Yes,  yes.  Cripplestraw,  if  I  ride  off  to  Budmouth 
233 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

and  meet  'em,  all  my  training  will  be  lost.  No  skill  is 
required  as  a  forlorn  hope.' 

'  True ;  that's  a  point,  sir.  You  would  outshine  'em 
all,  and  be  picked  off  at  the  very  beginning  as  a  too- 
dangerous  brave  man.' 

'But  if  I  stay  here  and  urge  on  the  faint-hearted 
ones,  or  get  up  into  the  turret-stair  by  that  gateway,  and 
pop  at  the  invaders  through  the  loophole,  I  shouldn't 
be  so  completely  wasted,  should  I  ?  ' 

'You  would  not,  Mr.  Derriman.  But,  as  you  was 
going  to  say  next,  the  fire  in  yer  veins  won't  let  ye  do 
that.  You  are  valiant ;  very  good :  you  don't  want  to 
husband  yer  valiance  at  home.  The  arg'ment  is  plain.' 

' If  my  birth  had  been  more  obscure,'  murmured  the 
yeoman,  '  and  I  had  only  been  in  the  militia,  for  instance, 
or  among  the  humble  pikemen,  so  much  wouldn't  have 
been  expected  of  me — of  my  fiery  nature.  Cripple- 
straw,  is  there  a  drop  of  brandy  to  be  got  at  in  the 
house?  I  don't  feel  very  well.' 

'  Dear  nephew,'  said  the  old  gentleman  from  above, 
whom  neither  of  the  others  had  as  yet  noticed,  ' I 
haven't  any  spirits  opened — so  unfortunate  !  But  there's 
a  beautiful  barrel  of  crab-apple  cider  in  draught;  and 
there's  some  cold  tea  from  last  night.' 

'What,  is  he  listening?'  said  Festus,  staring  up. 
'  Now  I  warrant  how  glad  he  is  to  see  me  forced  to  go — 
called  out  of  bed  without  breakfast,  and  he  quite  safe, 
and  sure  to  escape  because  he's  an  old  man  !—  Cripple- 
straw,  I  like  being  in  the  yeomanry  cavalry ;  but  I  wish 
I  hadn't  been  in  the  ranks ;  I  wish  I  had  been  only  the 
surgeon,  to  stay  in  the  rear  while  the  bodies  are  brought 
back  to  him — I  mean,  I  should  have  thrown  my  heart 
at  such  a  time  as  this  more  into  the  labour  of  restoring 
wounded  men  and  joining  their  shattered  limbs  together 
— u-u-ugh  ! — more  than  I  can  into  causing  the  wounds — 
I  am  too  humane,  Cripplestraw,  for  the  ranks ! ' 

'  Yes,  yes,'  said  his  companion,  depressing  his  spirits 
234 


THE   TRUMPET-MAJOR 

to  a  kindred  level.  '  And  yet,  such  is  fate,  that,  instead 
of  joining  men's  limbs  together,  you'll  have  to  get  your 
own  joined — poor  young  sojer  ! — all  through  having 
such  a  warlike  soul.' 

'  Yes,'  murmured  Festus,  and  paused.  '  You  can't 
think  how  strange  I  feel  here,  Cripplestraw,'  he  con- 
tinued, laying  his  hand  upon  the  centre  buttons  of  his 
waistcoat.  « How  I  do  wish  I  was  only  the  surgeon  ! ' 

He  slowly  mounted,  and  Uncle  Benjy,  in  the  mean- 
time, sang  to  himself  as  he  looked  on,  'Twen-ty -three  and 
half  from  JV.  W.  Six-teen  and  three-guar-ters  from  N.E? 

'  What's  that  old  mummy  singing  ? '  said  Festus 
savagely. 

'  Only  a  hymn  for  preservation  from  our  enemies, 
dear  nephew,'  meekly  replied  the  farmer,  who  had  heard 
the  remark.  '  Twen-ty-three  and  half  from  N.  W' 

Festus  allowed  his  horse  to  move  on  a  few7  paces,  and 
then  turned  again,  as  if  struck  by  a  happy  invention. 
*  Cripplestraw,'  he  began,  with  an  artificial  laugh,  '  I  am 
obliged  to  confess,  after  all — I  must  sec  her !  Tisn't 
nature  that  makes  me  draw  back — 'tis  love.  I  must  go 
and  look  for  her.' 

'  A  woman,  sir  ? ' 

*  I  didn't  want  to  confess  it ;  but  'tis  a  woman. 
Strange  that  I  should  be  drawn  so  entirely  against  my 
natural  wish  to  rush  at  'em  ! ' 

Cripplestraw,  seeing  which  way  the  wind  blew,  found 
it  advisable  to  blow  in  harmony.  *  Ah,  now  at  last  I 
see,  sir !  Spite  that  few  men  live  that  be  worthy  to 
command  ye ;  spite  that  you  could  rush  on,  marshal  the 
troops  to  victory,  as  I  may  say ;  but  then — what  of  it  ? — 
there's  the  unhappy  fate  of  being  smit  with  the  eyes  of  a 
woman,  and  you  are  unmanned  !  Maister  Derriman,  who 
is  himself,  when  he's  got  a  woman  round  his  neck  like  a 
millstone  ? ' 

'  It  is  something  like  that.' 

'  I  feel  the  case.  Be  you  valiant  ? — I  know,  of 
235 


THE   TRUMPET-MAJOR 

course,  the  words  being  a  matter  of  form — be  you 
valiant,  I  ask?  Yes,  of  course.  Then  don't  you 
waste  it  in  the  open  field.  Hoard  it  up,  I  say,  sir, 
for  a  higher  class  of  war — the  defence  of  yer  adorable 
lady.  Think  what  you  owe  her  at  this  terrible  time ! 
Now,  Maister  Derriman,  once  more  I  ask  ye  to  cast  off 
that  first  haughty  wish  to  rush  to  Budmouth,  and  to  go 
where  your  mis'ess  is  defenceless  and  alone.' 

'  I  will,  Cripplestraw,  now  you  put  it  like  that ! ' 

'  Thank  ye,  thank  ye  heartily,  Maister  Derriman.  Go 
now  and  hide  with  her.' 

'  But  can  I  ?  Now,  hang  flattery  ! — can  a  man  hide 
without  a  stain  ?  Of  course  I  would  not  hide  in  any 
mean  sense ;  no,  not  I ! ' 

'  If  you  be  in  love,  'tis  plain  you  may,  since  it  is  not 
your  own  life,  but  another's,  that  you  are  concerned  for, 
and  you  only  save  your  own  because  it  can't  be  helped.' 

'  'Tis  true,  Cripplestraw,  in  a  sense.  But  will  it  be 
understood  that  way?  Will  they  see  it  as  a  brave 
hiding  ? ' 

'  Now,  sir,  if  you  had  not  been  in  love  I  own  to  ye 
that  hiding  would  look  queer,  but  being  to  save  the  tears, 
groans,  fits,  swowndings,  and  perhaps  death  of  a  comely 
young  woman,  yer  principle  is  good;  you  honourably 
retreat  because  you  be  too  gallant  to  advance.  This 
sounds  strange,  ye  may  say,  sir;  but  it  is  plain  enough 
to  less  fiery  minds.' 

Festus  did  for  a  moment  try  to  uncover  his  teeth  in 
a  natural  smile,  but  it  died  away.  '  Cripplestraw,  you 
flatter  me ;  or  do  you  mean  it  ?  Well,  there's  truth  in  it. 
I  am  more  gallant  in  going  to  her  than  in  marching  to 
the  shore.  But  we  cannot  be  too  careful  about  our  good 
names,  we  soldiers.  I  must  not  be  seen.  I'm  off.' 

Cripplestraw  opened  the  hurdle  which  closed  the  arch 

under  the  portico  gateway,  and   Festus  passed   under, 

Uncle  Benjamin  singing,  Twenty-three  and  a  half  from 

N.  W.  with  a  sort  of  sublime  ecstasy,  feeling,  as  Festus 

236 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

had  observed,  that  his  money  was  safe,  and  that  the 
French  would  not  personally  molest  an  old  man  in  such 
a  ragged,  mildewed  coat  as  that  he  wore,  which  he  had 
taken  the  precaution  to  borrow  from  a  scarecrow  in  one 
of  his  fields  for  the  purpose. 

Festus  rode  on  full  of  his  intention  to  seek  out  Anne, 
and  under  cover  of  protecting  her  retreat  accompany 
her  to  King's-Bere,  where  he  knew  the  Lovedays  had 
relatives.  In  the  lane  he  met  Granny  Seamore,  who, 
having  packed  up  all  her  possessions  in  a  small  basket, 
was  placidly  retreating  to  the  mountains  till  all  should 
be  over. 

*  Well,  granny,  have  ye  seen  the  French  ? '  asked 
Festus. 

'  No,'  she  said,  looking  up  at  him  through  her  brazen 
spectacles.  « If  I  had  I  shouldn't  ha'  seed  thee  ! ' 

1  Faugh  ! '  replied  the  yeoman,  and  rode  on.  Just  as 
he  reached  the  old  road,  which  he  had  intended  merely 
to  cross  and  avoid,  his  countenance  fell.  Some  troops 
of  regulars,  who  appeared  to  be  dragoons,  were  rattling 
along  the  road.  Festus  hastened  towards  an  opposite 
gate,  so  as  to  get  within  the  field  before  they  should  see 
him ;  but,  as  ill-luck  would  have  it,  as  soon  as  he  got 
inside,  a  party  of  six  or  seven  of  his  own  yeomanry  troop 
were  straggling  across  the  same  field  and  making  for 
the  spot  where  he  was.  The  dragoons  passed  without 
seeing  him ;  but  when  he  turned  out  into  the  road  again 
it  was  impossible  to  retreat  towards  Overcombe  village 
because  of  the  yeomen.  So  he  rode  straight  on,  and 
heard  them  coming  at  his  heels.  There  was  no  other 
gate,  and  the  highway  soon  became  as  straight  as  a 
bowstring.  Unable  thus  to  turn  without  meeting  them, 
and  caught  like  an  eel  in  a  water-pipe,  Festus  drew 
nearer  and  nearer  to  the  fateful  shore.  But  he  did  not 
relinquish  hope.  Just  ahead  there  were  cross-roads, 
and  he  might  have  a  chance  of  slipping  down  one  of 
them  without  being  seen.  On  reaching  the  spot  he 
237 


THE   TRUMPET-MAJOR 

found  that  he  was  not  alone.  A  horseman  had  come 
up  the  right-hand  lane  and  drawn  rein.  It  was  an  officer 
of  the  German  legion,  and  seeing  Festus  he  held  up  his 
hand.  Festus  rode  up  to  him  and  saluted. 

1  It  ist  false  report ! '  said  the  officer. 

Festus  was  a  man  again.  He  felt  that  nothing  was 
too  much  for  him.  The  officer,  after  some  explanation 
of  the  cause  of  alarm,  said  that,  he  was  going  across  to 
the  road  which  led  by  the  moor,  to  stop  the  troops  and 
volunteers  converging  from  that  direction,  upon  which 
Festus  offered  to  give  information  along  the  Casterbridge 
road.  The  German  crossed  over,  and  was  soon  out  of 
sight  in  the  lane,  while  Festus  turned  back  upon  the  way 
by  which  he  had  come.  The  party  of  yeomanry  cavalry 
was  rapidly  drawing  near,  and  he  soon  recognized  among 
them  the  excited  voices  of  Stubb  of  Duddle  Hole,  Noakes 
of  Muckleford,  and  other  comrades  of  his  orgies  at  the 
hall.  It  was  a  magnificent  opportunity,  and  Festus 
drew  his  sword.  When  they  were  within  speaking 
distance  he  reined  round  his  charger's  head  to  Bud- 
mouth  and  shouted,  '  On,  comrades,  on  !  I  am  waiting 
for  you.  You  have  been  a  long  time  getting  up  with  me, 
seeing  the  glorious  nature  of  our  deeds  to-day  ! ' 

'  Well  said,  Derriman,  well  said  ! '  replied  the  foremost 
of  the  riders.  '  Have  you  heard  anything  new  ?  ' 

'  Only  that  he's  here  with  his  tens  of  thousands,  and 
that  we  are  to  ride  to  meet  him  sword  in  hand  as  soon 
as  we  have  assembled  in  the  town  ahead  here.' 

'  O  Lord ! '  said  Noakes,  with  a  slight  falling  of  the 
lower  jaw. 

'  The  man  who  quails  now  is  unworthy  of  the  name 
of  yeoman,'  said  Festus,  still  keeping  ahead  of  the  other 
troopers  and  holding  up  his  sword  to  the  sun.  *  O 
Noakes,  fie,  fie !  You  begin  to  look  pale,  man.' 

'  Faith,  perhaps  you'd  look  pale,'  said  Noakes,  with 
an  envious  glance  upon  Festus's  daring  manner,  '  if  you 
had  a  wife  and  family  depending  upon  ye ! ' 
238 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

« I'll  take  three  frog-eating  Frenchmen  single-handed  ! ' 
rejoined  Derriman,  still  flourishing  his  sword. 

'  They  have  as  good  swords  as  you ;  as  you  will  soon 
find,'  said  another  of  the  yeomen. 

'  If  they  were  three  times  armed,'  said  Festus — « ay, 
thrice  three  times — I  would  attempt  'em  three  to  one. 
How  do  you  feel  now,  my  old  friend  Stubb  ? '  (turning 
to  another  of  the  warriors.)  c  O,  friend  Stubb !  no 
bouncing  health  to  our  lady-loves  in  Oxwell  Hall  this 
summer  as  last.  Eh,  Brownjohn  ? ' 

'  I  am  afraid  not/  said  Brownjohn  gloomily. 

'  No  rattling  dinners  at  Stacie's  Hotel,  and  the  King 
below  with  his  staff.  No  wrenching  off  door-knockers 
and  sending  'em  to  the  bakehouse  in  a  pie  that  nobody 
calls  for.  Weeks  of  cut-and-thrust  work  rather  ! ' 

'  I  suppose  so.' 

1  Fight  how  we  may  we  shan't  get  rid  of  the  cursed 
tyrant  before  autumn,  and  many  thousand  brave  men 
will  lie  low  before  it's  done,'  remarked  a  young  yeoman 
with  a  calm  face,  who  meant  to  do  his  duty  without 
much  talking. 

'  No  grinning  matches  at  Mai-dun  Castle  this  summer,' 
Festus  resumed ;  '  no  thread-the-needle  at  Greenhill 
Fair,  and  going  into  shows  and  driving  the  showman 
crazy  with  cock-a-doodle-doo  !  ' 

'  I  suppose  not.' 

1  Does  it  make  you  seem  just  a  trifle  uncomfortable, 
Noakes  ?  Keep  up  your  spirits,  old  comrade.  Come, 
forward  !  we  are  only  ambling  on  like  so  many  donkey- 
women.  We  have  to  get  into  Budmouth,  join  the  rest 
of  the  troop,  and  then  march  along  the  coast  west'ard, 
as  I  imagine.  At  this  rate  we  shan't  be  well  into  the 
thick  of  battle  before  twelve  o'clock.  Spur  on,  com- 
rades. No  dancing  on  the  green,  Lockham,  this  year 
in  the  moonlight !  You  was  tender  upon  that  girl ; 
gad,  what  will  become  o'  her  in  the  struggle  ?  ' 

1  Come,  come,  Derriman,'  expostulated  Lockham — 
239 


THE  TRUMPET  MAJOR 

1  this  is  all  very  well,  but  I  don't  care  for  't.  I  am  as 
ready  to  fight  as  any  man,  but ' 

'  Perhaps  when  you  get  into  battle,  Derriman,  and 
see  what  it's  like,  your  courage  will  cool  down  a  little,' 
added  Noakes  on  the  same  side,  but  with  secret  admira- 
tion of  Festus's  reckless  bravery. 

'  I  shall  be  bayoneted  first,'  said  Festus.  '  Now 
let's  rally,  and  on  ! ' 

Since  Festus  was  determined  to  spur  on  wildly,  the 
rest  of  the  yeomen  did  not  like  to  seem  behindhand, 
and  they  rapidly  approached  the  town.  Had  they  been 
calm  enough  to  reflect,  they  might  have  observed  that 
for  the  last  half-hour  no  carts  or  carriages  had  met 
them  on  the  way,  as  they  had  done  further  back.  It 
was  not  till  the  troopers  reached  the  turnpike  that  they 
learnt  what  Festus  had  known  a  quarter  of  an  hour 
before.  At  the  intelligence  Derriman  sheathed  his 
sword  with  a  sigh  ;  and  the  party  soon  fell  in  with 
comrades  who  had  arrived  there  before  them,  where- 
upon the  source  and  details  of  the  alarm  were  boister- 
ously discussed. 

4  What,  didn't  you  know  of  the  mistake  till  now  ?  ' 
asked  one  of  these  of  the  new-comers.  '  Why,  when  I 
was  dropping  over  the  hill  by  the  cross-roads  I  looked 
back  and  saw  that  man  talking  to  the  messenger,  and 
he  must  have  told  him  the  truth.'  The  speaker  pointed 
to  Festus.  They  turned  their  indignant  eyes  full  upon 
him.  That  he  had  sported  with  their  deepest  feelings, 
while  knowing  the  rumour  to  be  baseless,  was  soon 
apparent  to  all. 

'  Beat  him  black  and  blue  with  the  flat  of  our  blades  ! ' 
shouted  two  or  three,  turning  their  horses'  heads  to  drop 
back  upon  Derriman,  in  which  move  they  were  followed 
by  most  of  the  party. 

But  Festus,  foreseeing  danger  from  the  unexpected 
revelation,  had  already  judiciously  placed  a  few  interven- 
ing yards  between  himself  and  his  fellow-yeomen,  and 
240 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

now,  clapping  spurs  to  his  horse,  rattled  like  thunder 
and  lightning  up  the  road  homeward.  His  ready  flight 
added  hotness  to  their  pursuit,  and  as  he  rode  and 
looked  fearfully  over  his  shoulder  he  could  see  them 
following  with  enraged  faces  and  drawn  swords,  a  posi- 
tion which  they  kept  up  for  a  distance  of  more  than  a 
mile.  Then  he  had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  them  drop 
off  one  by  one,  and  soon  he  and  his  panting  charger 
remained  alone  on  the  highway. 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 


DANGER  TO  ANNE 

XXVII 

riE  stopped  and  reflected  how  to  turn  this  rebuff  to 
advantage.  Baulked  in  his  project  of  entering  the 
watering-place  and  enjoying  congratulations  upon  his 
patriotic  bearing  during  the  advance,  he  sulkily  con- 
sidered that  he  might  be  able  to  make  some  use  of  his 
enforced  retirement  by  riding  to  Overcombe  and  glori- 
fying himself  in  the  eyes  of  Miss  Garland  before  the 
truth  should  have  reached  that  hamlet.  Having  thus 
decided  he  spurred  on  in  a  better  mood. 

By  this  time  the  volunteers  were  on  the  march,  and 
as  Derriman  ascended  the  road  he  met  the  Overcombe 
company,  in  which  trudged  Miller  Loveday  shoulder  to 
shoulder  with  the  other  substantial  householders  of 
the  place  and  its  neighbourhood,  duly  equipped  with 
pouches,  cross-belts,  firelocks,  flint-boxes,  pickers,  worms, 
magazines,  priming  -  horns,  heel -ball,  and  pomatum. 
There  was  nothing  to  be  gained  by  further  suppression 
of  the  truth,  and  briefly  informing  them  that  the  danger 
was  not  so  immediate  as -had  been  supposed,  Festus 
galloped  on.  At  the  end  of  another  mile  he  met  a  large 
number  of  pikemen,  including  Bob  Loveday,  whom  the 
yeoman  resolved  to  sound  upon  the  whereabouts  of 
242 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

Anne.  The  circumstances  were  such  as  to  lead  Bob  to 
speak  more  frankly  than  he  might  have  done  on  reflec- 
tion, and  he  told  Festus  the  direction  in  which  the 
women  had  been  sent.  Then  Festus  informed  the 
group  that  the  report  of  invasion  was  false,  upon  which 
they  all  turned  to  go  homeward  with  greatly  relieved 
spirits. 

Bob  walked  beside  Derriman's  horse  for  some  dis- 
tance. Loveday  had  instantly  made  up  his  mind  to 
go  and  look  for  the  women,  and  ease  their  anxiety  by 
letting  them  know  the  good  news  as  soon  as  possible. 
But  he  said  nothing  of  this  to  Festus  during  their 
return  together;  nor  did  Festus  tell  Bob  that  he  also 
had  resolved  to  seek  them  out,  and  by  anticipating 
every  one  else  in  that  enterprise,  make  of  it  a  glorious 
opportunity  for  bringing  Miss  Garland  to  her  senses 
about  him.  He  still  resented  the  ducking  that  he  had 
received  at  her  hands,  and  was  not  disposed  to  let 
that  insult  pass  without  obtaining  some  sort  of  sweet 
revenge. 

As  soon  as  they  had  parted  Festus  cantered  on  over 
the  hill,  meeting  on  his  way  the  Longpuddle  volunteers, 
sixty  rank  and  file,  under  Captain  Cunningham;  the 
Casterbridge  company,  ninety  strong  (known  as  the 
'  Consideration  Company J  in  those  days),  under  Captain 
Strickland;  and  others — all  with  anxious  faces  and 
covered  with  dust.  Just  passing  the  word  to  them  and 
leaving  them  at  halt,  he  proceeded  rapidly  onward  in 
the  direction  of  King's-Bere.  Nobody  appeared  on  the 
road  for  some  time,  till  after  a  ride  of  several  miles  he 
met  a  stray  corporal  of  volunteers,  who  told  Festus  in 
answer  to  his  inquiry  that  he  had  certainly  passed  no 
gig  full  of  women  of  the  kind  described.  Believing  that 
he  had  missed  them  by  following  the  highway,  Derriman 
turned  back  into  a  lane  along  which  they  might  have 
chosen  to  journey  for  privacy's  sake,  notwithstanding 
the  badness  and  uncertainty  of  its  track.  Arriving 
243 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

again  within  five  miles  of  Overcombe,  he  at  length 
heard  tidings  of  the  wandering  vehicle  and  its  precious 
burden,  which,  like  the  Ark  when  sent  away  from  the 
country  of  the  Philistines,  had  apparently  been  left  to 
the  instincts  of  the  beast  that  drew  it.  A  labouring 
man,  just  at  daybreak,  had  seen  the  helpless  party  going 
slowly  up  a  distant  drive,  which  he  pointed  out. 

No  sooner  had  Festus  parted  from  this  informant 
than  he  beheld  Bob  approaching,  mounted  on  the 
miller's  second  and  heavier  horse.  Bob  looked  rather 
surprised,  and  Festus  felt  his  coming  glory  in  danger. 

'  They  went  down  that  lane,'  he  said,  signifying  pre- 
cisely the  opposite  direction  to  the  true  one.  *  I,  too, 
have  been  on  the  look-out  for  missing  friends.' 

As  Festus  was  riding  back  there  was  no  reason  to 
doubt  his  information,  and  Loveday  rode  on  as  mis- 
directed. Immediately  that  he  was  out  of  sight  Festus 
reversed  his  course,  and  followed  the  track  which  Anne 
and  her  companions  were  last  seen  to  pursue. 

This  road  had  been  ascended  by  the  gig  in  question 
nearly  two  hours  before  the  present  moment.  Molly, 
the  servant,  held  the  reins,  Mrs.  Loveday  sat  beside  her, 
and  Anne  behind.  Their  progress  was  but  slow,  owing 
partly  to  Molly's  want  of  skill,  and  partly  to  the  steep- 
ness of  the  road,  which  here  passed  over  downs  of  some 
extent,  and  was  rarely  or  never  mended.  It  was  an 
anxious  morning  for  them  all,  and  the  beauties  of  the 
early  summer  day  fell  upon  unheeding  eyes.  They  were 
too  anxious  even  for  conjecture,  and  each  sat  thinking 
her  own  thoughts,  occasionally  glancing  westward,  or 
stopping  the  horse  to  listen  to  sounds  from  more  fre- 
quented roads  along  which  other  parties  were  retreating. 
Once,  while  they  listened  and  gazed  thus,  they  saw  a 
glittering  in  the  distance,  and  heard  the  tramp  of  many 
horses.  It  was  a  large  body  of  cavalry  going  in  the 
direction  of  the  King's  watering-place,  the  same  regiment 
of  dragoons,  in  fact,  which  Festus  had  seen  further  on 
244 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

in  its  course.  The  women  in  the  gig  had  no  doubt 
that  these  men  were  marching  at  once  to  engage  the 
enemy.  By  way  of  varying  the  monotony  of  the  journey 
Molly  occasionally  burst  into  tears  of  horror,  believing 
Buonaparte  to  be  in  countenance  and  habits  precisely 
what  the  caricatures  represented  him.  Mrs.  Loveday 
endeavoured  to  establish  cheerfulness  by  assuring  her 
companions  of  the  natural  civility  of  the  French  nation, 
with  whom  unprotected  women  were  safe  from  injury, 
unless  through  the  casual  excesses  of  soldiery  beyond 
control.  This  was  poor  consolation  to  Anne,  whose 
mind  was  more  occupied  with  Bob  than  with  herself, 
and  a  miserable  fear  that  she  would  never  again  see  him 
alive  so  paled  her  face  and  saddened  her  gaze  forward, 
that  at  last  her  mother  said,  '  Who  was  you  thinking  of, 
my  dear  ? '  Anne's  only  reply  was  a  look  at  her  mother, 
with  which  a  tear  mingled. 

Molly  whipped  the  horse,  by  which  she  quickened  his 
pace  for  five  yards,  when  he  again  fell  into  the  perverse 
slowness  that  showed  how  fully  conscious  he  was  of  being 
the  master-mind  and  chief  personage  of  the  four.  When- 
ever there  was  a  pool  of  water  by  the  road  he  turned 
aside  to  drink  a  mouthful,  and  remained  there  his  own 
time  in  spite  of  Molly's  tug  at  the  reins  and  futile  fly- 
flapping  on  his  rump.  They  were  now  in  the  chalk 
district,  where  there  were  no  hedges,  and  a  rough  attempt 
at  mending  the  way  had  been  made  by  throwing  down 
huge  lumps  of  that  glaring  material  in  heaps,  without 
troubling  to  spread  it  or  break  them  abroad.  The  jolting 
here  was  most  distressing,  and  seemed  about  to  snap 
the  springs. 

'How  that  wheel  do  wamble,'  said  Molly  at  last. 
She  had  scarcely  spoken  when  the  wheel  came  off,  and 
all  three  were  precipitated  over  it  into  the  road. 

Fortunately  the  horse  stood  still,  and  they  began  to 
gather  themselves  up.  The  only  one  of  the  three  who 
had  suffered  in  the  least  from  the  fall  was  Anne,  and  she 
245 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

was  only  conscious  of  a  severe  shaking  which  had  half 
stupefied  her  for  the  time.  The  wheel  lay  flat  in  the 
road,  so  that  there  was  no  possibility  of  driving  further 
in  their  present  plight.  They  looked  around  for  help. 
The  only  friendly  object  near  was  a  lonely  cottage,  from 
its  situation  evidently  the  home  of  a  shepherd. 

The  horse  was  unharnessed  and  tied  to  the  back  of 
the  gig,  and  the  three  women  went  across  to  the  house. 
On  getting  close  they  found  that  the  shutters  of  all  the 
lower  windows  were  closed,  but  on  trying  the  door  it 
opened  to  the  hand.  Nobody  was  within;  the  house 
appeared  to  have  been  abandoned  in  some  confusion, 
and  the  probability  was  that  the  shepherd  had  fled  on 
hearing  the  alarm.  Anne  now  said  that  she  felt  the 
effects  of  her  fall  too  severely  to  be  able  to  go  any  further 
just  then,  and  it  was  agreed  that  she  should  be  left  there 
while  Mrs.  Loveday  and  Molly  went  on  for  assistance, 
the  elder  lady  deeming  Molly  too  young  and  vacant- 
minded  to  be  trusted  to  go  alone.  Molly  suggested 
taking  the  horse,  as  the  distance  might  be  great,  each  of 
them  sitting  alternately  on  his  back  while  the  other  led 
him  by  the  head.  This  they  did,  Anne  watching  them 
vanish  down  the  white  and  lumpy  road. 

She  then  looked  round  the  room,  as  well  as  she  could 
do  so  by  the  light  from  the  open  door.  It  was  plain, 
from  the  shutters  being  closed,  that  the  shepherd  had 
left  his  house  before  daylight,  the  candle  and  ex- 
tinguisher on  the  table  pointing  to  the  same  conclusion. 
Here  .she  remained,  her  eyes  occasionally  sweeping  the 
bare,  sunny  expanse  of  down,  that  was  only  relieved  from 
absolute  emptiness  by  the  overturned  gig  hard  by.  The 
sheep  seemed  to  have  gone  away,  and  scarcely  a  bird 
flew  across  to  disturb  the  solitude.  Anne  had  risen 
early  that  morning,  and  leaning  back  in  the  withy  chair, 
which  she  had  placed  by  the  door,  she  soon  fell  into 
an  uneasy  doze,  from  which  she  was  awakened  by  the 
distant  tramp  of  a  horse.  Feeling  much  recovered  from 
246 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

the  effects  of  the  overturn,  she  eagerly  rose  and  looked 
out.  The  horse  was  not  Miller  Loveday's,  but  a  power- 
ful bay,  bearing  a  man  in  full  yeomanry  uniform. 

Anne  did  not  wait  to  recognize  further ;  instantly  re- 
entering  the  house,  she  shut  the  door  and  bolted  it.  In 
the  dark  she  sat  and  listened :  not  a  sound.  At  the 
end  of  ten  minutes;  thinking  that  the  rider  if  he  were 
not  Festus  had  carelessly  passed  by,  or  that  if  he  were 
Festus  he  had  not  seen  her,  she  crept  softly  upstairs 
and  peeped  out  of  the  window.  Excepting  the  spot  of 
shade,  formed  by  the  gig  as  before,  the  down  was  quite 
bare.  She  then  opened  the  casement  and  stretched  out 
her  neck. 

'  Ha,  young  madam !  There  you  are !  I  knew  'ee ! 
Now  you  are  caught ! '  came  like  a  clap  of  thunder  from 
a  point  three  or  four  feet  beneath  her,  and  turning  down 
her  frightened  eyes  she  beheld  Festus  Derriman  lurking 
close  to  the  wall.  His  attention  had  first  been  attracted 
by  her  shutting  the  door  of  the  cottage ;  then  by  the 
overturned  gig;  and  after  making  sure,  by  examining 
the  vehicle,  that  he  was  not  mistaken  in  her  identity,  he 
had  dismounted,  led  his  horse  round  to  the  side,  and 
crept  up  to  entrap  her. 

Anne  started  back  into  the  room,  and  remained  still 
as  a  stone.  Festus  went  on — '  Come,  you  must  trust  to 
me.  The  French  have  landed.  I  have  been  trying  to 
meet  with  you  every  hour  since  that  confounded  trick 
you  played  me.  You  threw  me  into  the  water.  Faith, 
it  was  well  for  you  I  didn't  catch  ye  then  !  I  should 
have  taken  a  revenge  in  a  better  way  than  I  shall  now. 
I  mean  to  have  that  kiss  of  ye.  Come,  Miss  Nancy; 
do  you  hear? — 'Tis  no  use  for  you  to  lurk  inside  there. 
You'll  have  to  turn  out  as  soon  as  Boney  comes  over 
the  hill. — Are  you  going  to  open  the  door,  I  say,  and 
speak  to  me  in  a  civil  way  ?  What  do  you  think  I  am, 
then,  that  you  should  barricade  yourself  against  me  as  if 
I  was  a  wild  beast  or  Frenchman  ?  Open  the  door,  or 
247 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

put  out  your  head,  or  do  something ;  or  'pon  my  soul 
I'll  break  in  the  door  ! ' 

It  occurred  to  Anne  at  this  point  of  the  tirade  that 
the  best  policy  would  be  to  temporize  till  somebody 
should  return,  and  she  put  out  her  head  and  face,  now 
grown  somewhat  pale. 

'  That's  better,'  said  Festus.  « Now  I  can  talk  to  you. 
Come,  my  dear,  will  you  open  the  door  ?  Why  should 
you  be  afraid  of  me  ? ' 

'  I  am  not  altogether  afraid  of  you ;  I  am  safe  from 
the  French  here,'  said  Anne,  not  very  truthfully,  and 
anxiously  casting  her  eyes  over  the  vacant  down. 

'Then  let  me  tell  you  that  the  alarm  is  false,  and 
that  no  landing  has  been  attempted.  Now  will  you 
open  the  door  and  let  me  in?  I  am  tired.  I  have 
been  on  horseback  ever  since  daylight,  and  have  come 
to  bring  you  the  good  tidings.' 

Anne  looked  as  if  she  doubted  the  news. 

'Come,'  said  Festus. 

'  No,  I  cannot  let  you  in,'  she  murmured,  after  a  pause. 

4  Dash  my  wig,  then,'  he  cried,  his  face  flaming  up, 
'  I'll  find  a  way  to  get  in !  Now,  don't  you  provoke 
me !  You  don't  know  what  I  am  capable  of.  I  ask 
you  again,  will  you  open  the  door  ?  ' 

'  Why  do  you  wish  it  ? '  she  said  faintly. 

1 1  have  told  you  I  want  to  sit  down ;  and  I  want  to 
ask  you  a  question.' 

'  You  can  ask  me  from  where  you  are.' 

1 1  cannot  ask  you  properly.  It  is  about  a  serious 
matter  :  whether  you  will  accept  my  heart  and  hand.  I 
am  not  going  to  throw  myself  at  your  feet ;  but  I  ask 
you  to  do  your  duty  as  a  woman,  namely,  give  your 
solemn  word  to  take  my  name  as  soon  as  the  war  is 
over  and  I  have  time  to  attend  to  you.  I  scorn  to  ask 
it  of  a  haughty  hussy  who  will  only  speak  to  me  through 
a  window ;  however,  I  put  it  to  you  for  the  last  time, 
madam.' 

248 


THE   TRUMPET-MAJOR 

There  was  no  sign  on  the  down  of  anybody's  return, 
and  she  said,  *  I'll  think  of  it,  sir.' 

'You  have  thought  of  it  long  enough;  I  want  to 
know.  Will  you  or  won't  you  ?  ' 

1  Very  well ;  I  think  I  will.'  And  then  she  felt  that 
she  might  be  buying  personal  safety  too  dearly  by 
shuffling  thus,  since  he  would  spread  the  report  that 
she  had  accepted  him,  and  cause  endless  complication. 
*  No,'  she  said,  '  I  have  changed  my  mind.  I  cannot 
accept  you,  Mr.  Derriman.' 

'  That's  how  you  play  with  me ! '  he  exclaimed, 
stamping.  '  "  Yes,"  one  moment ;  "  No,"  the  next. 
Come,  you  don't  know  what  you  refuse.  That  old  hall 
is  my  uncle's  own,  and  he  has  nobody  else  to  leave  it 
to.  As  soon  as  he's  dead  I  shall  throw  up  farming  and 
start  as  a  squire.  And  now,'  he  added  with  a  bitter 
sneer,  '  what  a  fool  you  are  to  hang  back  from  such  a 
chance ! ' 

1  Thank  you,  I  don't  value  it,'  said  Anne. 

'  Because  you  hate  him  who  would  make  it  yours  ?  ' 

*  It  may  not  lie  in  your  power  to  do  that.' 

'What — has  the  old  fellow  been  telling  you  his 
affairs  ? ' 

'No.' 

'  Then  why  do  you  mistrust  me  ?  Now,  after  this 
will  you  open  the  door,  and  show  that  you  treat  me  as  a 
friend  if  you  won't  accept  me  as  a  lover  ?  I  only  want 
to  sit  and  talk  to  you.' 

Anne  thought  she  would  trust  him  ;  it  seemed  almost 
impossible  that  he  could  harm  her.  She  retired  from 
the  window  and  went  downstairs.  When  her  hand  was 
upon  the  bolt  of  the  door,  her  mind  misgave  her.  In- 
stead of  withdrawing  it  she  remained  in  silence  where 
she  was,  and  he  began  again — 

'  Are  you  going  to  unfasten  it  ? ' 

Anne  did  not  speak. 

'  Now,  dash  my  wig,  I  will  get  at  you  !  You've  tried 
249 


THE   TRUMPET-MAJOR 

me  beyond  endurance.  One  kiss  would  have  been 
enough  that  day  in  the  mead;  now  I'll  have  forty, 
whether  you  will  or  no ! ' 

He  flung  himself  against  the  door;  but  as  it  was 
bolted,  and  had  in  addition  a  great  wooden  bar  across  it, 
this  produced  no  effect.  He  was  silent  for  a  moment, 
and  then  the  terrified  girl  heard  him  attempt  the 
shuttered  window.  She  ran  upstairs  and  again  scanned 
the  down.  The  yellow  gig  still  lay  in  the  blazing  sun- 
shine, and  the  horse  of  Festus  stood  by  the  corner  of 
the  garden — nothing  else  was  to  be  seen.  At  this 
moment  there  came  to  her  ear  the  noise  of  a  sword 
drawn  from  its  scabbard ;  and,  peeping  over  the  window- 
sill,  she  saw  her  tormentor  drive  his  sword  between  the 
joints  of  the  shutters,  in  an  attempt  to  rip  them  open. 
The  sword  snapped  off  in  his  hand.  With  an  impre- 
cation he  pulled  out  the  piece,  and  returned  the  two 
halves  to  the  scabbard. 

'  Ha  !  ha  ! '  he  cried,  catching  sight  of  the  top  of  her 
head.  *  'Tis  only  a  joke,  you  know ;  but  I'll  get  in  all 
the  same.  All  for  a  kiss  !  But  never  mind,  we'll  do 
it  yet ! '  He  spoke  in  an  affectedly  light  tone,  as  if 
ashamed  of  his  previous  resentful  temper ;  but  she 
could  see  by  the  livid  back  of  his  neck  that  he  was 
brimful  of  suppressed  passion.  '  Only  a  jest,  you  know,' 
he  went  on.  «  How  are  we  going  to  do  it  now  ?  Why, 
in  this  way.  I  go  and  get  a  ladder,  and  enter  at  the 
upper  window  where  my  love  is.  And  there's  the 
ladder  lying  under  that  corn-rick  in  the  first  enclosed 
field.  Back  in  two  minutes,  dear  !  ' 

He  ran  off,  and  was  lost  to  her  view. 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 


ANNE  DOES  WONDERS 


XXVIII 

ANNE  fearfully  surveyed  her  position.  The  upper 
windows  of  the  cottage  were  of  flimsiest  lead-work,  and 
to  keep  him  out  would  be  hopeless.  She  felt  that  not 
a  moment  was  to  be  lost  in  getting  away.  Running, 
downstairs  she  opened  the  door,  and  then  it  occurrdu 
to  her  terrified  understanding  that  there  would  be  no 
chance  of  escaping  him  by  flight  afoot  across  such 
an  extensive  down,  since  he  might  mount  his  horse 
and  easily  ride  after  her.  The  animal  still  remained 
tethered  at  the  corner  of  the  garden;  if  she  could 
release  him  and  frighten  him  away  before  Festus  re- 
turned, there  would  not  be  quite  such  odds  against 
her.  She  accordingly  unhooked  the  horse  by  reaching 
over  the  bank,  and  then,  pulling  off  her  muslin  necker- 
chief, flapped  it  in  his  eyes  to  startle  him.  But  the 
gallant  steed  did  not  move  or  flinch ;  she  tried  again, 
and  he  seemed  rather  pleased  than  otherwise.  At  this 
moment  she  heard  a  cry  from  the  cottage,  and  turning, 
beheld  her  adversary  approaching  round  the  corner  of 
the  building. 

'  I  thought  I   should  tole  out  the  mouse  by  that 
trick  ! '  cried  Festus  exultingly.     Instead  of  going  for  a 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

ladder,  he  had  simply  hidden  himself  at  the  back  to 
tempt  her  down. 

Poor  Anne  was  now  desperate.  The  bank  on  which 
she  stood  was  level  with  the  horse's  back,  and  the  crea- 
ture seemed  quiet  as  a  lamb.  With  a  determination  of 
which  she  was  capable  in  emergencies,  she  seized  the 
rein,  flung  herself  upon  the  sheepskin,  and  held  on  by 
the  mane.  The  amazed  charger  lifted  his  head,  sniffed, 
wrenched  his  ears  hither  and  thither,  and  started  off  at 
a  frightful  speed  across  the  down. 

'  O,  my  heart  and  limbs ! '  said  Festus  under  his 
breath,  as,  thoroughly  alarmed,  he  gazed  after  her.  «  She 
on  Champion !  She'll  break  her  neck,  and  I  shall  be 
tried  for  manslaughter,  and  disgrace  will  be  brought 
upon  the  name  of  Derriman  ! ' 

Champion  continued  to  go  at  a  stretch-gallop,  but 
he  did  nothing  worse.  Had  he  plunged  or  reared, 
Derriman's  fears  might  have  been  verified,  and  Anne 
have  come  with  deadly  force  to  the  ground.  But  the 
course  was  good,  and  in  the  horse's  speed  lay  a  com- 
parative security.  She  was  scarcely  shaken  in  her 
precarious  half-horizontal  position,  though  she  was  awed 
to  see  the  grass,  loose  stones,  and  other  objects  pass 
her  eyes  like  strokes  whenever  she  opened  them,  which 
was  only  just  for  a  second  at  intervals  of  half  a  minute ; 
and  to  feel  how  wildly  the  stirrups  swung,  and  that  what 
struck  her  knee  was  the  bucket  of  the  carbine,  and  that 
it  was  a  pistol-holster  which  hurt  her  arm. 

They  quickly  cleared  the  down,  and  Anne  became 
conscious  that  the  course  of  the  horse  was  homeward. 
As  soon  as  the  ground  began  to  rise  towards  the  outer 
belt  of  upland  which  lay  between  her  and  the  coast, 
Champion,  now  panting  and  reeking  with  moisture, 
lessened  his  speed  in  sheer  weariness,  and  proceeded  at 
a  rapid  jolting  trot.  Anne  felt  that  she  could  not  hold 
on  half  so  well ;  the  gallop  had  been  child's  play  com- 
pared with  this.  They  were  in  a  lane,  ascending  to  a 
252 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

ridge,  and  she  made  up  her  mind  for  a  fall.  Over  the 
ridge  rose  an  animated  spot,  higher  and  higher;  it 
turned  out  to  be  the  upper  part  of  a  man,  and  the  man 
to  be  a  soldier.  Such  was  Anne's  attitude  that  she 
only  got  an  occasional  glimpse  of  him;  and,  though 
she  feared  that  he  might  be  a  Frenchman,  she  feared 
the  horse  more  than  the  enemy,  as  she  had  feared 
Festus  more  than  the  horse.  Anne  had  energy  enough 
left  to  cry,  '  Stop  him ;  stop  him  ! '  as  the  soldier  drew 
near. 

He,  astonished  at  the  sight  of  a  military  horse  with  a 
bundle  of  drapery  across  his  back,  had  already  placed 
himself  in  the  middle  of  the  lane,  and  he  now  held  out 
his  arms  till  his  figure  assumed  the  form  of  a  Latin  cross 
planted  in  the  roadway.  Champion  drew  near,  swerved, 
and  stood  still  almost  suddenly,  a  check  sufficient  to 
send  Anne  slipping  down  his  flank  to  the  ground.  The 
timely  friend  stepped  forward  and  helped  her  to  her  feet, 
when  she  saw  that  he  was  John  Loveday. 

'  Are  you  hurt  ? '  he  said  hastily,  having  turned  quite 
pale  at  seeing  her  fall. 

'  O  no ;  not  a  bit,'  said  Anne,  gathering  herself  up 
with  forced  briskness,  to  make  light  of  the  misadventure 

*  But  how  did  you  get  in  such  a  place  ?  ' 

'  There,  he's  gone ! '  she  exclaimed,  instead  of  reply 
ing,  as  Champion  swept  round  John  Loveday  and 
cantered  off  triumphantly  in  the  direction  of  Oxwell,  a 
performance  which  she  followed  with  her  eyes. 

( But  how  did  you  come  upon  his  back,  and  whose 
horse  is  it  ?  ' 

<  I  will  tell  you.' 

'Well?' 

'  I — cannot  tell  you.' 

John  looked  steadily  at  her,  saying  nothing. 

'  How  did  you  come  here  ? '  she  asked.  '  Is  it  true 
that  the  French  have  not  landed  at  all  ? ' 

'  Quite  true ;  the  alarm  was  groundless.     I'll  tell  you 
253 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

all  about  it.     You  look  very  tired.     You  had  better  sit 
down  a  few  minutes.     Let  us  sit  on  this  bank.1 

He  helped  her  to  the  slope  indicated,  and  continued, 
still  as  if  his  thoughts  were  more  occupied  with  the 
mystery  of  her  recent  situation  than  with  what  he  was 
saying :  '  We  arrived  at  Budmouth  Barracks  this  morn- 
ing, and  are  to  lie  there  all  the  summer.  I  could  not 
write  to  tell  father  we  were  coming.  It  was  not  because 
of  any  rumour  of  the  French,  for  we  knew  nothing 
of  that  till  we  met  the  people  on  the  road,  and  the 
colonel  said  in  a  moment  the  news  was  false.  Buona- 
parte is  not  even  at  Boulogne  just  now.  I  was  anxious 
to  know  how  you  had  borne  the  fright,  so  I  hastened 
to  Overcombe  at  once,  as  soon  as  I  could  get  out  of 
barracks.' 

Anne,  who  had  not  been  at  all  responsive  to  his  dis- 
course, now  swayed  heavily  against  him,  and  looking 
quickly  down  he  found  that  she  had  silently  fainted.  To 
support  her  in  his  arms  was  of  course  the  impulse  of  a 
moment.  There  was  no  water  to  be  had,  and  he  could 
think  of  nothing  else  but  to  hold  her  tenderly  till  she 
came  round  again.  Certainly  he  desired  nothing  more. 

Again  he  asked  himself,  what  did  it  all  mean  ? 

He  waited,  looking  down  upon  her  tired  eyelids,  and 
at  the  row  of  lashes  lying  upon  each  cheek,  whose 
natural  roundness  showed  itself  in  singular  perfection 
now  that  the  customary  pink  had  given  place  to  a  pale 
luminousness  caught  from  the  surrounding  atmosphere. 
The  dumpy  ringlets  about  her  forehead  and  behind 
her  poll,  which  were  usually  as  tight  as  springs,  had 
been  partially  uncoiled  by  the  wildness  of  her  ride, 
and  hung  in  split  locks  over  her  forehead  and  neck. 
John,  who,  during  the  long  months  of  his  absence, 
had  lived  only  to  meet  her  again,  was  in  a  state 
of  ecstatic  reverence,  and  bending  down  he  gently 
kissed  her. 

Anne  was  just  becoming  conscious. 
254 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

4  O,  Mr.  Derriman,  never,  never ! '  she  murmured, 
sweeping  her  face  with  her  hand. 

1 1  thought  he  was  at  the  bottom  of  it/  said  John. 

Anne  opened  her  eyes,  and  started  back  from  him. 
'  What  is  it  ?  '  she  said  wildly. 

'  You  are  ill,  my  dear  Miss  Garland/  replied  John  in 
trembling  anxiety,  and  taking  her  hand. 

*  I  am  not  ill,  I  am  wearied  out ! '  she  said.  '  Can't 
we  walk  on  ?  How  far  are  we  from  Overcombe  ?  ' 

'About  a  mile.  But  tell  me,  somebody  has  been 
hurting  you — frightening  you.  I  know  who  it  was;  it 
was  Derriman,  and  that  was  his  horse.  Now  do  you 
tell  me  all.' 

Anne  reflected.  'Then  if  I  tell  you,'  she  said, 
1  will  you  discuss  with  me  what  I  had  better  do,  and 
not  for  the  present  let  my  mother  and  your  father 
know  ?  I  don't  want  to  alarm  them,  and  I  must  not 
let  my  affairs  interrupt  the  business  connexion  between 
the  mill  and  the  hall  that  has  gone  on  for  so  many 
years.' 

The  trumpet  -  major  promised,  and  Anne  told  the 
adventure.  His  brow  reddened  as  she  went  on,  and 
when  she  had  done  she  said,  '  Now  you  are  angry. 
Don't  do  anything  dreadful,  will  you?  Remember 
that  this  Festus  will  most  likely  succeed  his  uncle  at 
Oxwell,  in  spite  of  present  appearances,  and  if  Bob 
succeeds  at  the  mill  there  should  be  no  enmity  between 
them.' 

'  That's  true.  I  won't  tell  Bob.  Leave  him  to  me. 
Where  is  Derriman  now?  On  his  way  home,  I  sup- 
pose. When  I  have  seen  you  into  the  house  I  will 
deal  with  him — quite  quietly,  so  that  he  shall  say  nothing 
about  it.' 

'  Yes,  appeal  to  him,  do  !  Perhaps  he  will  be  better 
then.' 

They  walked  on  together,  Loveday  seeming  to  ex- 
perience much  quiet  bliss. 

255 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

'  I  came  to  look  for  you,'  he  said,  '  because  of  that 
dear,  sweet  letter  you  wrote.' 

'Yes,  I  did  write  you  a  letter,'  she  admitted,  with 
misgiving,  now  beginning  to  see  her  mistake.  '  It  was 
because  I  was  sorry  I  had  blamed  you.' 

'I  am  almost  glad  you  did  blame  me,'  said  John 
cheerfully,  *  since,  if  you  had  not,  the  letter  would  not 
have  come.  I  have  read  it  fifty  times  a  day.' 

This  put  Anne  into  an  unhappy  mood,  and  they  pro- 
ceeded without  much  further  talk  till  the  mill  chimneys 
were  visible  below  them.  John  then  said  that  he  would 
leave  her  to  go  in  by  herself. 

'  Ah,  you  are  going  back  to  get  into  some  danger  on 
my  account  ? ' 

*  I  can't  get  into  much  danger  with  such  a  fellow  as 
he,  can  I  ? '  said  John,  smiling. 

'  Well,  no,'  she  answered,  with  a  sudden  carelessness 
of  tone.  It  was  indispensable  that  he  should  be  un- 
deceived, and  to  begin  the  process  by  taking  an  affectedly 
light  view  of  his  personal  risks  was  perhaps  as  good  a 
way  to  do  it  as  any.  Where  friendliness  was  construed 
as  love,  an  assumed  indifference  was  the  necessary  ex- 
pression for  friendliness. 

So  she  let  him  go ;  and,  bidding  him  hasten  back  as 
soon  as  he  could,  went  down  the  hill,  while  John's  feet 
retraced  the  upland. 

The  trumpet-major  spent  the  whole  afternoon  and 
evening  in  that  long  and  difficult  search  for  Festus 
Derriman.  Crossing  the  down  at  the  end  of  the  second 
hour  he  met  Molly  and  Mrs.  Loveday.  The  gig  had 
been  repaired,  they  had  learnt  the  groundlessness  of  the 
alarm,  and  they  would  have  been  proceeding  happily 
enough  but  for  their  anxiety  about  Anne.  John  told 
them  shortly  that  she  had  got  a  lift  home,  and  proceeded 
on  his  way. 

The  worthy  object  of  his  search  had  in  the  mean- 
time been  plodding  homeward  on  foot,  sulky  at  the  loss 
256 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

of  his  charger,  encumbered  with  his  sword,  belts,  high 
boots,  and  uniform,  and  in  his  own  discomfiture  care- 
less whether  Anne  Garland's  life  had  been  endangered 
or  not. 

At  length  Derriman  reached  a  place  where  the  road 
ran  between  high  banks,  one  of  which  he  mounted  and 
paced  along  as  a  change  from  the  hard  trackway.  Ahead 
of  him  he  saw  an  old  man  sitting  down,  with  eyes  fixed 
on  the  dust  of  the  road,  as  if  resting  and  meditating  at 
one  and  the  same  time.  Being  pretty  sure  that  he  re- 
cognized his  uncle  in  that  venerable  figure,  Festus  came 
forward  stealthily,  till  he  was  immediately  above  the  old 
man's  back.  The  latter  was  clothed  in  faded  nankeen 
breeches,  speckled  stockings,  a  drab  hat,  and  a  coat 
which  had  once  been  light  blue,  but  from  exposure  as  a 
scarecrow  had  assumed  the  complexion  and  fibre  of  a 
dried  pudding-cloth.  The  farmer  was,  in  fact,  returning 
to  the  hall,  which  he  had  left  in  the  morning  some  time 
later  than  his  nephew,  to  seek  an  asylum  in  a  hollow  tree 
about  two  miles  off.  The  tree  was  so  situated  as  to 
command  a  view  of  the  building,  and  Uncle  Benjy  had 
managed  to  clamber  up  inside  this  natural  fortification 
high  enough  to  watch  his  residence  through  a  hole  in  the 
bark,  till,  gathering  from  the  words  of  occasional  passers- 
by  that  the  alarm  was  at  least  premature,  he  had  ventured 
into  daylight  again. 

He  was  now  engaged  in  abstractedly  tracing  a  diagram 
in  the  dust  with  his  walking-stick,  and  muttered  words 
to  himself  aloud.  Presently  he  arose  and  went  on  his 
way  without  turning  round.  Festus  was  curious  enough 
to  descend  and  look  at  the  marks.  They  represented 
an  oblong,  with  two  semi-diagonals,  and  a  little  square 
in  the  middle.  Upon  the  diagonals  were  the  figures 
20  and  17,  and  on  each  side  of  the  parallelogram  stood 
a  letter  signifying  the  point  of  the  compass. 

'What  crazy  thing  is  running  in  his  head  now?' 
said  Festus  to  himself,  with  supercilious  pity,  recollecting 

257  R 


THE   TRUMPET-MAJOR 

that  the  farmer  had  been  singing  those  very  numbers 
earlier  in  the  morning.  Being  able  to  make  nothing  of 
it,  he  lengthened  his  strides,  and  treading  on  tiptoe 
overtook  his  relative,  saluting  him  by  scratching  his 
back  like  a  hen.  The  startled  old  farmer  danced  round 
like  a  top,  and  gasping,  said,  as  he  perceived  his  nephew, 
1  What,  Festy  !  not  thrown  from  your  horse  and  killed, 
then,  after  all ! ' 

4  No,  nunc.  What  made  ye  think  that  ?  ' 
'Champion  passed  me  about  an  hour  ago,  when  I 
was  in  hiding — poor  timid  soul  of  me,  for  I  had  nothing 
to  lose  by  the  French  coming — and  he  looked  awful 
with  the  stirrups  dangling  and  the  saddle  empty.  'Tis 
a  gloomy  sight,  Festy,  to  see  a  horse  cantering  without 
a  rider,  and  I  thought  you  had  been — feared  you  had 
been  thrown  off  and  killed  as  dead  as  a  nit.' 

*  Bless  your  dear  old  heart  for  being  so  anxious ! 
And  what  pretty   picture  were  you  drawing  just  now 
with  your  walking-stick  ! ' 

'  O,  that !  That  is  only  a  way  I  have  of  amusing 
myself.  It  showed  how  the  French  might  have  advanced 
to  the  attack,  you  know.  Such  trifles  fill  the  head  of  a 
weak  old  man  like  me.' 

*  Or  the  place  where  something  is  hid  away — money, 
for  instance  ? ' 

'  Festy,'  said  the  farmer  reproachfully,  '  you  always 
know  I  use  the  old  glove  in  the  bedroom  cupboard  for 
any  guinea  or  two  I  possess.' 

'  Of  course  I  do,'  said  Festus  ironically. 

They  had  now  reached  a  lonely  inn  about  a  mile 
and  a  half  from  the  hall,  and,  the  farmer  not  responding 
to  his  nephew's  kind  invitation  to  come  in  and  treat 
him,  Festus  entered  alone.  He  was  dusty,  draggled, 
and  weary,  and  he  remained  at  the  tavern  long.  The 
trumpet-major,  in  the  meantime,  having  searched  the 
roads  in  vain,  heard  in  the  course  of  the  evening  of  the 
yeoman's  arrival  at  this  place,  and  that  he  would  pro- 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

bably  be  found  there  still.  He  accordingly  approached 
the  door,  reaching  it  just  as  the  dusk  of  evening  changed 
to  darkness. 

There  was  no  light  in  the  passage,  but  John  pushed 
on  at  hazard,  inquired  for  Derriman,  and  was  told  that 
he  would  be  found  in  the  back  parlour  alone.  When 
Loveday  first  entered  the  apartment  he  was  unable  to 
see  anything,  but  following  the  guidance  of  a  vigorous 
snoring,  he  came  to  the  settle,  upon  which  Festus  lay 
asleep,  his  position  being  faintly  signified  by  the  shine 
of  his  buttons  and  other  parts  of  his  uniform.  John 
laid  his  hand  upon  the  reclining  figure  and  shook  him, 
and  by  degrees  Derriman  stopped  his  snore  and 
sat  up. 

'  Who  are  you  ? '  he  said,  in  the  accents  of  a  man  who 
has  been  drinking  hard.  '  Is  it  you,  dear  Anne  ?  Let 
me  kiss  you ;  yes,  I  will.' 

'  Shut  your  mouth,  you  pitiful  blockhead ;  I'll  teach 
you  genteeler  manners  than  to  persecute  a  young  woman 
in  that  way ! '  and  taking  Festus  by  the  ear,  he  gave  it 
a  good  pull.  Festus  broke  out  with  an  oath,  and  struck 
a  vague  blow  in  the  air  with  his  fist;  whereupon  the 
trumpet-major  dealt  him  a  box  on  the  right  ear,  and  a 
similar  one  on  the  left  to  artistically  balance  the  first. 
Festus  jumped  up  and  used  his  fists  wildly,  but  without 
any  definite  result. 

'  Want  to  fight,  do  ye,  eh  ?  '  said  John.  <  Nonsense  ! 
you  can't  fight,  you  great  baby,  and  never  could.  You 
are  only  fit  to  be  smacked  ! '  and  he  dealt  Festus  a 
specimen  of  the  same  on  the  cheek  with  the  palm  of  his 
hand. 

*  No,  sir,  no !  O,  you  are  Loveday,  the  young  man 
she's  going  to  be  married  to,  I  suppose?  Dash  me,  I 
didn't  want  to  hurt  her,  sir.' 

'Yes,  my  name  is  Loveday;  and  you'll  know  where 
to  find  me,  since  we  can't  finish  this  to-night.  Pistols 
or  swords,  whichever  you  like,  my  boy.  Take  that,  and 
259 


THE   TRUMPET-MAJOR 

that,  so  that  you  may  not  forget  to  call  upon  me ! '  and 

again  he  smacked  the  yeoman's  ears  and  cheeks.     c  Do 

you  know  what  it  is  for,  eh  ? ' 

'  No,  Mr.  Loveday,  sir — yes,  I  mean,  I  do.' 

'What  is  it  for,  then?     I  shall  keep  smacking  until 

you  tell  me.     Gad  !   if  you  weren't  drunk,  I'd  half  kill 

you  here  to-night.' 

I  It  is  because  I  served  her  badly.     Damned  if  I  care  ! 
I'll  do  it  again,  and  be  hanged  to  Jee  !     Where's  my  horse 
Champion  ?     Tell  me  that/  and  he  hit  at  the  trumpet- 
major. 

John  parried  this  attack,  and  taking  him  firmly  by 
the  collar,  pushed  him  down  into  the  seat,  saying,  '  Here 
I  hold  'ee  till  you  beg  pardon  for  your  doings  to-day. 
Do  you  want  any  more  of  it,  do  you  ?  '  And  he  shook 
the  yeoman  to  a  sort  of  jelly. 

I 1  do  beg  pardon — no,  I  don't.     I  say  this,  that  you 
shall  not  take  such  liberties  with  old  Squire  Derriman's 
nephew,  you  dirty  miller's  son,  you  flour-worm,  you  smut 
in  the  corn !     I'll  call  you  out  to-morrow  morning,  and 
have  my  revenge.' 

'  Of  course  you  will ;  that's  what  I  came  for.'  And 
pushing  him  back  into  the  corner  of  the  settle,  Loveday 
went  out  of  the  house,  feeling  considerable  satisfaction 
at  having  got  himself  into  the  beginning  of  as  nice  a 
quarrel  about  Anne  Garland  as  the  most  jealous  lover 
could  desire. 

But  of  one  feature  in  this  curious  adventure  he  had 
not  the  least  notion — that  Festus  Derriman,  misled  by 
the  darkness,  the  fumes  of  his  potations,  and  the  constant 
sight  of  Anne  and  Bob  together,  never  once  supposed 
his  assailant  to  be  any  other  man  than  Bob,  believing 
the  trumpet-major  miles  away. 

There  was  a  moon  during  the  early  part  of  John's 

walk  home,  but  when  he  had  arrived  within  a  mile  of 

Overcombe  the  sky  clouded   over,  and  rain   suddenly 

began  to  fall  with  some  violence.     Near  him  was  a 

260 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

wooden  granary  on  tall  stone  staddles,  and  perceiving 
that  the  rain  was  only  a  thunderstorm  which  would  soon 
pass  away,  he  ascended  the  steps  and  entered  the  door- 
way, where  he  stood  watching  the  half-obscured  moon 
through  the  streaming  rain.  Presently,  to  his  surprise, 
he  beheld  a  female  figure  running  forward  with  great 
rapidity,  not  towards  the  granary  for  shelter,  but  towards 
open  ground.  What  could  she  be  running  for  in  that 
direction  ?  The  answer  came  in  the  appearance  of  his 
brother  Bob  from  that  quarter,  seated  on  the  back  of  his 
father's  heavy  horse.  As  soon  as  the  woman  met  him, 
Bob  dismounted  and  caught  her  in  his  arms.  They 
stood  locked  together,  the  rain  beating  into  their  uncon- 
scious forms,  and  the  horse  looking  on. 

The  trumpet-major  fell  back  inside  the  granary,  and 
threw  himself  on  a  heap  of  empty  sacks  which  lay  in  the 
corner:  he  had  recognized  the  woman  to  be  Anne. 
Here  he  reclined  in  a  stupor  till  he  was  aroused  by 
the  sound  of  voices  under  him,  the  voices  of  Anne  and 
his  brother,  who,  having  at  last  discovered  that  they 
were  getting  wet,  had  taken  shelter  under  the  granary 
floor. 

*  I  have  been  home,'  said  she.  '  Mother  and  Molly 
have  both  got  back  long  ago.  We  were  all  anxious 
about  you,  and  I  came  out  to  look  for  you.  O,  Bob,  I 
am  so  glad  to  see  you  again  ! ' 

John  might  have  heard  every  word  of  the  conversa- 
tion, which  was  continued  in  the  same  strain  for  a  long 
time;  but  he  stopped  his  ears,  and  would  not.  Still 
they  remained,  and  still  was  he  determined  that  they 
should  not  see  him.  With  the  conserved  hope  of  more 
than  half  a  year  dashed  away  in  a  moment,  he  could  yet 
feel  that  the  cruelty  of  a  protest  would  be  even  greater 
than  its  inutility.  It  was  absolutely  by  his  own  contriv- 
ance that  the  situation  had  been  shaped.  Bob,  left  to 
himself,  would  long  ere  this  have  been  the  husband  of 
another  woman. 

261 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

The  rain  decreased,  and  the  lovers  went  on.  John 
looked  after  them  as  they  strolled,  aqua-tinted  by  the 
weak  moon  and  mist.  Bob  had  thrust  one  of  his  arms 
through  the  rein  of  the  horse,  and  the  other  was  round 
Anne's  waist.  When  they  were  lost  behind  the  declivity 
the  trumpet-major  came  out,  and  walked  homeward  even 
more  slowly  than  they.  As  he  went  on,  his  face  put  off 
its  complexion  of  despair  for  one  of  serene  resolve.  For 
the  first  time  in  his  dealings  with  friends  he  entered 
upon  a  course  of  counterfeiting,  set  his  features  to  con- 
ceal his  thought,  and  instructed  his  tongue  to  do  like- 
wise. He  threw  fictitiousness  into  his  very  gait,  even 
now,  when  there  was  nobody  to  see  him,  and  struck  at 
stems  of  wild  parsley  with  his  regimental  switch  as  he 
had  used  to  do  when  soldiering  was  new  to  him,  and  life 
in  general  a  charming  experience. 

Thus  cloaking  his  sickly  thought,  he  descended  to 
the  mill  as  the  others  had  done  before  him,  occasionally 
looking  down  upon  the  wet  road  to  notice  how  close 
Anne's  little  tracks  were  to  Bob's  all  the  way  along,  and 
how  precisely  a  curve  in  his  course  was  followed  by  a 
curve  in  hers.  But  after  this  he  erected  his  head  and 
walked  so  smartly  up  to  the  front  door  that  his  spurs 
rang  through  the  court. 

They  had  all  reached  home,  but  before  any  of  them 
could  speak  he  cried  gaily,  'Ah,  Bob,  I  have  been 
thinking  of  you  !  By  God,  how  are  you,  my  boy  ?  No 
French  cut-throats  after  all,  you  see.  Here  we  are,  well 
and  happy  together  again.' 

1  A  good  Providence  has  watched  over  us,'  said  Mrs. 
Loveday  cheerfully.  *  Yes,  in  all  times  and  places  we  are 
in  God's  hand.5 

'  So  we  be,  so  we  be ! '  said  the  miller,  who  still  shone 
in  all  the  fierceness  of  uniform.  *  Well,  now  we'll  ha'e  a 
drop  o'  drink.' 

'There's  none,'  said  David,  coming  forward  with  a 
drawn  face. 

262 


THE   TRUMPET-MAJOR 

<  What ! '  said  the  miller. 

'Afore  I  went  to  church  for  a  pike  to  defend  my 
native  country  from  Boney,  I  pulled  out  the  spigots  of 
all  the  barrels,  maister ;  for,  thinks  I — damn  him  ! — since 
we  can't  drink  it  ourselves,  he  shan't  have  it,  nor  none 
of  his  men.' 

'  But  you  shouldn't  have  done  it  till  you  was  sure  he'd 
come  ! '  said  the  miller,  aghast. 

1  Chok'  it  all,  I  was  sure  ! '  said  David.  « I'd  sooner 
see  churches  fall  than  good  drink  wasted ;  but  how  was 
I  to  know  better  ? ' 

'  Well,  well ;  what  with  one  thing  and  another  this  day 
will  cost  me  a  pretty  penny ! '  said  Loveday,  bustling  off 
to  the  cellar,  which  he  found  to  be  several  inches  deep  in 
stagnant  liquor.  '  John,  how  can  I  welcome  'ee  ? '  he 
continued  hopelessly,  on  his  return  to  the  room.  '  Only 
go  and  see  what  he's  done  ! ' 

'  I've  ladled  up  a  drap  wi'  a  spoon,  trumpet-major,' 
said  David.  *  Tisn't  bad  drinking,  though  it  do  taste  a 
little  of  the  floor,  that's  true.' 

John  said  that  he  did  not  require  anything  at  all ;  and 
then  they  all  sat  down  to  supper,  and  were  very  tempe- 
rately gay  with  a  drop  of  mild  elder- wine  which  Mrs.  Love- 
day  found  in  the  bottom  of  a  jar.  The  trumpet-major, 
adhering  to  the  part  he  meant  to  play,  gave  humorous 
accounts  of  his  adventures  since  he  had  last  sat  there. 
He  told  them  that  the  season  was  to  be  a  very  lively  one 
— that  the  royal  family  was  coming,  as  usual,  and  many 
other  interesting  things ;  so  that  when  he  left  them  to 
return  to  barracks  few  would  have  supposed  the  British 
army  to  contain  a  lighter-hearted  man. 

Anne  was  the  only  one  who  doubted  the  reality  of  this 
behaviour.  When  she  had  gone  up  to  her  bedroom  she 
stood  for  some  time  looking  at  the  wick  of  the  candle  as 
if  it  were  a  painful  object,  the  expression  of  her  face 
being  shaped  by  the  conviction  that  John's  afternoon 
words  when  he  helped  her  out  of  the  way  of  Champion 
263 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

were  not  in  accordance  with  his  words  to-night,  and  that 
the  dimly-realized  kiss  during  her  faintness  was  no  ima- 
ginary one.  But  in  the  blissful  circumstances  of  having 
Bob  at  hand  again  she  took  optimist  views,  and  per- 
suaded herself  that  John  would  soon  begin  to  see  her  in 
the  light  of  a  sister. 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 


A  DISSEMBLER 

XXIX 

1  O  cursory  view,  John  Loveday  seemed  to  accomplish 
this  with  amazing  ease.  Whenever  he  came  from  bar- 
racks to  Overcombe,  which  was  once  or  twice  a  week, 
he  related  news  of  all  sorts  to  her  and  Bob  with  infinite 
zest,  and  made  the  time  as  happy  a  one  as  had  ever 
been  known  at  the  mill,  save  for  himself  alone.  He 
said  nothing  of  Festus,  except  so  far  as  to  inform  Anne 
that  he  had  expected  to  see  him  and  been  disappointed. 
On  the  evening  after  the  King's  arrival  at  his  seaside 
residence  John  appeared  again,  staying  to  supper  and 
describing  the  royal  entry,  the  many  tasteful  illumina- 
tions and  transparencies  which  had  been  exhibited,  the 
quantities  of  tallow  candles  burnt  for  that  purpose,  and 
the  swarms  of  aristocracy  who  had  followed  the  King 
thither. 

When  supper  was  over  Bob  went  outside  the  house 
to  shut  the  shutters,  which  had,  as  was  often  the  case, 
been  left  open  some  time  after  lights  were  kindled  within. 
John  still  sat  at  the  table  when  his  brother  approached 
the  window,  though  the  others  had  risen  and  retired. 
Bob  was  struck  by  seeing  through  the  pane  how  John's 
face  had  changed.  Throughout  the  supper-time  he  had 

265 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

been  talking  to  Anne  in  the  gay  tone  habitual  with  him 
now,  which  gave  greater  strangeness  to  the  gloom  of  his 
present  appearance.  He  remained  in  thought  for  a 
moment,  took  a  letter  from  his  breast-pocket,  opened  it, 
and,  with  a  tender  smile  at  his  weakness,  kissed  the 
writing  before  restoring  it  to  its  place.  The  letter  was 
one  that  Anne  had  written  to  him  at  Exonbury. 

Bob  stood  perplexed ;  and  then  a  suspicion  crossed 
his  mind  that  John,  from  brotherly  goodness,  might  be 
feigning  a  satisfaction  with  recent  events  which  he  did 
not  feel.  Bob  now  made  a  noise  with  the  shutters,  at 
which  the  trumpet-major  rose  and  went  out,  Bob  at 
once  following  him. 

'  Jack,'  said  the  sailor  ingenuously,  '  I'm  terribly 
sorry  that  I've  done  wrong.' 

*  How  ?  '  asked  his  brother. 

'  In  courting  our  little  Anne.  Well,  you  see,  John, 
she  was  in  the  same  house  with  me,  and  somehow  or 
other  I  made  myself  her  beau.  But  I  have  been  think- 
ing that  perhaps  you  had  the  first  claim  on  her,  and  if 
so,  Jack,  I'll  make  way  for  'ee.  I — I  don't  care  for  her 
much,  you  know— not  so  very  much,  and  can  give  her 
up  very  well.  It  is  nothing  serious  between  us  at  all. 
Yes,  John,  you  try  to  get  her;  I  can  look  elsewhere.' 
Bob  never  knew  how  much  he  loved  Anne  till  he  found 
himself  making  this  speech  of  renunciation. 

'  O  Bob,  you  are  mistaken ! '  said  the  trumpet- 
major,  who  was  not  deceived.  '  When  I  first  saw 
her  I  admired  her,  and  I  admire  her  now,  and  like 
her.  I  like  her  so  well  that  I  shall  be  glad  to  see  you 
marry  her.' 

'  But,'  replied  Bob,  with  hesitation,  « I  thought  I  saw 
you  looking  very  sad,  as  if  you  were  in  love ;  I  saw 
you  take  out  a  letter,  in  short.  That's  what  it  was  dis- 
turbed me  and  made  me  come  to  you.' 

'  O,  I  see  your  mistake ! '  said  John,  laughing 
forcedly. 

266 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

At  this  minute  Mrs.  Loveday  and  the  miller,  who 
were  taking  a  twilight  walk  in  the  garden,  strolled  round 
near  to  where  the  brothers  stood.  She  talked  volubly 
on  events  in  Budmouth,  as  most  people  did  at  this 
time.  *  And  they  tell  me  that  the  theatre  has  been 
painted  up  afresh,'  she  was  saying,  '  and  that  the  actors 
have  come  for  the  season,  with  the  most  lovely  actresses 
that  ever  were  seen.' 

When  they  had  passed  by  John  continued,  'I  am 
in  love,  Bob ;  but — not  with  Anne.' 

'  Ah  !  who  is  it  then  ?  '  said  the  mate  hopefully. 

*  One  of  the  actresses  at  the  theatre,'  John  replied, 
with  a  concoctive  look  at  the  vanishing  forms  of  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Loveday.     '  She  is  a  very  lovely  woman,  you 
know.     But  we  won't  say  anything  more  about  it — it 
dashes  a  man  so.' 

'  O,  one  of  the  actresses  ! '  said  Bob,  with  open  mouth. 

'  But  don't  you  say  anything  about  it ! '  continued 
the  trumpet-major  heartily.  '  I  don't  want  it  known.' 

c  No,  no — I  won't,  of  course.  May  I  not  know  her 
name  ?  ' 

'  No,  not  now,  Bob.  I  cannot  tell  'ee,'  John 
answered,  and  with  truth,  for  Loveday  did  not  know 
the  name  of  any  actress  in  the  world. 

When  his  brother  had  gone,  Captain  Bob  hastened 
off  in  a  state  of  great  animation  to  Anne,  whom  he 
found  on  the  top  of  a  neighbouring  hillock  which  the 
daylight  had  scarcely  as  yet  deserted. 

*  You  have  been  a  long  time  coming,  sir,'  said  she, 
in  sprightly  tones  of  reproach. 

'  Yes,  dearest ;  and  you'll  be  glad  to  hear  why.  I've 
found  out  the  whole  mystery — yes — why  he's  queer, 
and  everything.' 

Anne  looked  startled. 

*  He's  up  to  the  gunnel  in  love  !     We  must  try  to  help 
him  on  in  it,  or  I  fear  he'll  go  melancholy-mad  like,' 

'  We  help  him  ? '  she  asked  faintly. 
267 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

'  He's  lost  his  heart  to  one  of  the  play-actresses  at 
Budmouth,  and  I  think  she  slights  him.' 

1  O,  I  am  so  glad  ! '  she  exclaimed. 

'  Glad  that  his  venture  don't  prosper  ? ' 

'  O  no ;  glad  he's  so  sensible.  How  long  is  it  since 
that  alarm  of  the  French  ?  ' 

*  Six  weeks,  honey.     Why  do  you  ask  ?  ' 

1  Men  can  forget  in  six  weeks,  can't  they,  Bob  ? ' 
The  impression  that  John  had  really  kissed  her  still 
remained. 

*  Well,  some  men  might/  observed  Bob  judicially. 
1 /  couldn't.     Perhaps  John  might.     I  couldn't  forget 
you  in  twenty  times  as  long.     Do  you  know,  Anne,  I 
half  thought  it  was  you  John  cared  about ;  and  it  was  a 
weight  off  my  heart  when  he  said  he  didn't.' 

'  Did  he  say  he  didn't  ? ' 

1  Yes.  He  assured  me  himself  that  the  only  person 
in  the  hold  of  his  heart  was  this  lovely  play-actress,  and 
nobody  else/ 

*  How  I  should  like  to  see  her  ! ' 
1  Yes.     So  should  I.' 

'  I  would  rather  it  had  been  one  of  our  own  neigh- 
bours' girls,  whose  birth  and  breeding  we  know  of;  but 
still,  if  that  is  his  taste,  I  hope  it  will  end  well  for  him. 
How  very  quick  he  has  been !  I  certainly  wish  we 
could  see  her.' 

'  I  don't  know  so  much  as  her  name.  He  is  very 
close,  and  wouldn't  tell  a  thing  about  her.' 

'  Couldn't  we  get  him  to  go  to  the  theatre  with  us  ? 
and  then  we  could  watch  him,  and  easily  find  out  the 
right  one.  Then  we  would  learn  if  she  is  a  good  young 
woman  ;  and  if  she  is,  could  we  not  ask  her  here,  and  so 
make  it  smoother  for  him?  He  has  been  very  gay 
lately;  that  means  budding  love:  and  sometimes  be- 
tween his  gaieties  he  has  had  melancholy  moments; 
that  means  there's  difficulty.' 

Bob  thought  her  plan  a  good  one,  and  resolved  to 
268 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

put  it  in  practice  on  the  first  available  evening.  Anne 
was  very  curious  as  to  whether  John  did  really  cherish 
a  new  passion,  the  story  having  quite  surprised  her. 
Possibly  it  was  true ;  six  weeks  had  passed  since  John 
had  shown  a  single  symptom  of  the  old  attachment,  and 
what  could  not  that  space  of  time  effect  in  the  heart 
of  a  soldier  whose  very  profession  it  was  to  leave  girls 
behind  him  ? 

After  this  John  Loveday  did  not  come  to  see  them 
for  nearly  a  month,  a  neglect  which  was  set  down  by 
Bob  as  an  additional  proof  that  his  brother's  affections 
were  no  longer  exclusively  centred  in  his  old  home. 
When  at  last  he  did  arrive,  and  the  theatre-going  was 
mentioned  to  him,  the  flush  of  consciousness  which 
Anne  expected  to  see  upon  his  face  was  unaccountably 
absent. 

( Yes,  Bob ;  I  should  very  well  like  to  go  to  the 
theatre,'  he  replied  heartily.  '  Who  is  going  besides  ?  ' 

'  Only  Anne,'  Bob  told  him,  and  then  it  seemed  to 
occur  to  the  trumpet-major  that  something  had  been 
expected  of  him.  He  rose  and  said  privately  to  Bob 
with  some  confusion,  '  O  yes,  of  course  we'll  go.  As  I 
am  connected  with  one  of  the — in  short  I  can  get  you 
in  for  nothing,  you  know.  At  least  let  me  manage 
everything.' 

'  Yes,  yes.  I  wonder  you  didn't  propose  to  take  us 
before,  Jack,  and  let  us  have  a  good  look  at  her.' 

*  I  ought  to  have.  You  shall  go  on  a  King's  night. 
You  won't  want  me  to  point  her  out,  Bob ;  I  have  my 
reasons  at  present  for  asking  it  ?  ' 

'  We'll  be  content  with  guessing,'  said  his  brother. 

When  the  gallant  John  was  gone,  Anne  observed, 
*  Bob,  how  he  is  changed  !  I  watched  him.  He  showed 
no  feeling,  even  when  you  burst  upon  him  suddenly 
with  the  subject  nearest  his  heart.' 

'  It  must  be  because  his  suit  don't  fay,'  said  Captain 
Bob. 

269 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 


AT  THE  THEATRE  ROYAL 

XXX 

IN  two  or  three  days  a  message  arrived  asking  them  to 
attend  at  the  theatre  on  the  coming  evening,  with  the 
added  request  that  they  would  dress  in  their  gayest 
clothes,  to  do  justice  to  the  places  taken.  Accordingly, 
in  the  course  of  the  afternoon  they  drove  off,  Bob 
having  clothed  himself  in  a  splendid  suit,  recently  pur- 
chased as  an  attempt  to  bring  himself  nearer  to  Anne's 
style  when  they  appeared  in  public  together.  As  finished 
off  by  this  dashing  and  really  fashionable  attire,  he  was 
the  perfection  of  a  beau  in  the  dog-days;  pantaloons 
and  boots  of  the  newest  make;  yards  and  yards  of 
muslin  wound  round  his  neck,  forming  a  sort  of  asylum 
for  the  lower  part  of  his  face ;  two  fancy  waistcoats,  and 
coat-buttons  like  circular  shaving  glasses.  The  absurd 
extreme  of  female  fashion,  which  was  to  wear  muslin 
dresses  in  January,  was  at  this  time  equalled  by  that  of 
the  men,  who  wore  clothes  enough  in  August  to  melt 
them.  Nobody  would  have  guessed  from  Bob's  presen- 
tation now  that  he  had  ever  been  aloft  on  a  dark  night 
in  the  Atlantic,  or  knew  the  hundred  ingenuities  that 
could  be  performed  with  a  rope's  end  and  a  marline- 
spike  as  well  as  his  mother  tongue. 
270 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

It  was  a  day  of  days.  Anne  wore  her  celebrated 
celestial  blue  pelisse,  her  Leghorn  hat,  and  her  muslin 
dress  with  the  waist  under  the  arms;  the  latter  being 
decorated  with  excellent  Honiton  lace  bought  of  the 
woman  who  travelled  from  that  place  to  Overcombe  and 
its  neighbourhood  with  a  basketful  of  her  own  manu- 
facture, and  a  cushion  on  which  she  worked  by  the 
wayside.  John  met  the  lovers  at  the  inn  outside  the 
town,  and  after  stabling  the  horse  they  entered  the  town 
together,  the  trumpet-major  informing  them  that  the 
watering-place  had  never  been  so  full  before,  that  the 
Court,  the  Prince  of  Wales,  and  everybody  of  con- 
sequence was  there,  and  that  an  attic  could  scarcely  be 
got  for  money.  The  King  had  gone  for  a  cruise  in  his 
yacht,  and  they  would  be  in  time  to  see  him  land. 

Then  drums  and  fifes  were  heard,  and  in  a  minute 
or  two  they  saw  Sergeant  Stanner  advancing  along  the 
street  with  a  firm  countenance,  fiery  poll,  and  rigid 
staring  eyes,  in  front  of  his  recruiting-party.  The 
sergeant's  sword  was  drawn,  and  at  intervals  of  two  or 
three  inches  along  its  shining  blade  were  impaled 
fluttering  one-pound  notes,  to  express  the  lavish  bounty 
that  was  offered.  He  gave  a  stern,  suppressed  nod  of 
friendship  to  our  people,  and  passed  by.  Next  they 
came  up  to  a  waggon,  bowered  over  with  leaves  and 
flowers,  so  that  the  men  inside  could  hardly  be  seen. 

*  Come  to  see  the  King,  hip-hip  hurrah ! '  cried  a 
voice  within,  and  turning  they  saw  through  the  leaves 
the  nose  and  face  of  Cripplestraw.     The  waggon  con- 
tained all  Derriman's  workpeople. 

*  Is  your  master  here  ? '  said  John. 

1  No,  trumpet-major,  sir.  But  young  maister  is 
coming  to  fetch  us  at  nine  o'clock,  in  case  we  should  be 
too  blind  to  drive  home.' 

*  O  !  where  is  he  now  ?  ' 

'  Never  mind,'  said  Anne  impatiently,  at  which  the 
trumpet-major  obediently  moved  on. 
271 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

By  the  time  they  reached  the  pier  it  was  six  o'clock ; 
the  royal  yacht  was  returning ;  a  fact  announced  by  the 
ships  in  the  harbour  firing  a  salute.  The  King  came 
ashore  with  his  hat  in  his  hand,  and  returned  the 
salutations  of  the  well-dressed  crowd  in  his  old  indis- 
criminate fashion.  While  this  cheering  and  waving  of 
handkerchiefs  was  going  on  Anne  stood  between  the  two 
brothers,  who  protectingly  joined  their  hands  behind 
her  back,  as  if  she  were  a  delicate  piece  of  statuary 
that  a  push  might  damage.  Soon  the  King  had  passed, 
and  receiving  the  military  salutes  of  the  piquet,  joined 
the  Queen  and  princesses  at  Gloucester  Lodge,  the 
homely  house  of  red  brick  in  which  he  unostentatiously 
resided. 

As  there  was  yet  some  little  time  before  the  theatre 
would  open,  they  strayed  upon  the  velvet  sands,  and 
listened  to  the  songs  of  the  sailors,  one  of  whom  extem- 
porized for  the  occasion  : — 

'  Portland  Road  the  King  aboard,  the  King  aboard ! 
Portland  Road  the  King  aboard, 
We  weighed  and  sailed  from  Portland  Road  ! '  * 

When  they  had  looked  on  awhile  at  the  combats  at 
single-stick  which  were  in  progress  hard  by,  and  seen 
the  sum  of  five  guineas  handed  over  to  the  modest 
gentleman  who  had  broken  most  heads,  they  returned 
to  Gloucester  Lodge,  whence  the  King  and  other 
members  of  his  family  now  reappeared,  and  drove,  at 
a  slow  trot,  round  to  the  theatre  in  carriages  drawn  by 
the  Hanoverian  white  horses  that  were  so  well  known 
in  the  town  at  this  date. 

When  Anne  and  Bob  entered  the  theatre  they  found 
that  John  had  taken  excellent  places,  and  concluded 
that  he  had  got  them  for  nothing  through  the  influence 
of  the  lady  of  his  choice.  As  a  matter  of  fact  he  had 

*  Vide  Preface. 
272 


THE   TRUMPET-MAJOR 

paid  full  prices  for  those  two  seats,  like  any  other  out- 
sider, and  even  then  had  a  difficulty  in  getting  them,  it 
being  a  King's  night.  When  they  were  settled  he  him- 
self retired  to  an  obscure  part  of  the  pit,  from  which  the 
stage  was  scarcely  visible. 

*  We  can  see  beautifully,'  said  Bob,  in  an  aristocratic 
voice,  as  he  took  a  delicate  pinch  of  snuff,  and  drew  out 
the  magnificent  pocket-handkerchief  brought  home  from 
the  East  for  such  occasions.  'But  I  am  afraid  poor 
John  can't  see  at  all.' 

'  But  we  can  see  him,'  replied  Anne,  '  and  notice  by 
his  face  which  of  them  it  is  he  is  so  charmed  with. 
The  light  of  that  corner  candle  falls  right  upon  his 
cheek.' 

By  this  time  the  King  had  appeared  in  his  place, 
which  was  overhung  by  a  canopy  of  crimson  satin 
fringed  with  gold.  About  twenty  places  were  occupied 
by  the  royal  family  and  suite ;  and  beyond  them  was  a 
crowd  of  powdered  and  glittering  personages  of  fashion, 
completely  filling  the  centre  of  the  little  building; 
though  the  King  so  frequently  patronized  the  local 
stage  during  these  years  that  the  crush  was  not  in- 
convenient. 

The  curtain  rose  and  the  play  began.  To-night  it 
was  one  of  Colman's,  who  at  this  time  enjoyed  great 
popularity,  and  Mr.  Bannister  supported  the  leading 
character.  Anne,  with  her  hand  privately  clasped  in 
Bob's,  and  looking  as  if  she  did  not  know  it,  partly 
watched  the  piece  and  partly  the  face  of  the  impres- 
sionable John  who  had  so  soon  transferred  his  affections 
elsewhere.  She  had  not  long  to  wait.  When  a  certain 
one  of  the  subordinate  ladies  of  the  comedy  entered  on 
the  stage  the  trumpet-major  in  his  corner  not  only 
looked  conscious,  but  started  and  gazed  with  parted  lips. 

'  This  must  be  the  one,'  whispered  Anne  quickly. 
'  See,  he  is  agitated  ! ' 

She  turned  to  Bob,  but  at  the  same  moment  his  hand 
273  s 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

convulsively  closed  upon  hers  as  he,  too,  strangely  fixed 
his  eyes  upon  the  newly-entered  lady. 

'  What  is  it  ?  ' 

Anne  looked  from  one  to  the  other  without  regarding 
the  stage  at  all.  Her  answer  came  in  the  voice  of  the 
actress  who  now  spoke  for  the  first  time.  The  accents 
were  those  of  Miss  Matilda  Johnson. 

One  thought  rushed  into  both  their  minds  on  the 
instant,  and  Bob  was  the  first  to  utter  it. 

'  What — is  she  the  woman  of  his  choice  after  all  ? ' 

'  If  so,  it  is  a  dreadful  thing  ! '  murmured  Anne. 

But,  as  may  be  imagined,  the  unfortunate  John  was 
as  much  surprised  by  this  rencounter  as  the  other  two. 
Until  this  moment  he  had  been  in  utter  ignorance  of  the 
theatrical  company  and  all  that  pertained  to  it.  More- 
over, much  as  he  knew  of  Miss  Johnson,  he  was  not 
aware  that  she  had  ever  been  trained  in  her  youth  as  an 
actress,  and  that  after  lapsing  into  straits  and  difficulties 
for  a  couple  of  years  she  had  been  so  fortunate  as  to 
again  procure  an  engagement  here. 

The  trumpet-major,  though  not  prominently  seated, 
had  been  seen  by  Matilda  already,  who  had  observed 
still  more  plainly  her  old  betrothed  and  Anne  in  the 
other  part  of  the  house.  John  was  not  concerned  on 
his  own  account  at  being  face  to  face  with  her,  but  at 
the  extraordinary  suspicion  that  this  conjuncture  must 
revive  in  the  minds  of  his  best  beloved  friends.  After 
some  moments  of  pained  reflection  he  tapped  his  knee. 

*  Gad,  I  won't  explain ;  it  shall  go  as  it  is ! '  he  said. 
« Let  them  think  her  mine.  Better  that  than  the  truth, 
after  all.' 

Had  personal  prominence  in  the  scene  been  at  this 
moment  proportioned  to  intentness  of  feeling,  the  whole 
audience,  regal  and  otherwise,  would  have  faded  into  an 
indistinct  mist  of  background,  leaving  as  the  sole  emer- 
gent and  telling  figures  Bob  and  Anne  at  one  point,  the 
trumpet-major  on  the  left  hand,  and  Matilda  at  the 
274 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

opposite  corner  of  the  stage.  But  fortunately  the  dead- 
lock of  awkward  suspense  into  which  all  four  had  fallen 
was  terminated  by  an  accident.  A  messenger  entered 
the  King's  box  with  despatches.  There  was  an  instant 
pause  in  the  performance.  The  despatch-box  being 
opened  the  King  read  for  a  few  moments  with  great 
interest,  the  eyes  of  the  whole  house,  including  those  of 
Anne  Garland,  being  anxiously  fixed  upon  his  face ;  for 
terrible  events  fell  as  unexpectedly  as  thunderbolts  at 
this  critical  time  of  our  history.  The  King  at  length 

beckoned  to  Lord ,  who  was  immediately  behind 

him,  the  play  was  again  stopped,  and  the  contents  of  the 
despatch  were  publicly  communicated  to  the  audience. 

Sir  Robert  Calder,  cruising  off  Finisterre,  had  come 
in  sight  of  Villeneuve,  and  made  the  signal  for  action, 
which,  though  checked  by  the  weather,  had  resulted  in 
the  capture  of  two  Spanish  line-of-battle  ships,  and  the 
retreat  of  Villeneuve  into  Ferrol. 

The  news  was  received  with  truly  national  feeling,  if 
noise  might  be  taken  as  an  index  of  patriotism.  '  Rule 
Britannia '  was  called  for  and  sung  by  the  whole  house. 
But  the  importance  of  the  event  was  far  from  being 
recognized  at  this  time;  and  Bob  Loveday,  as  he  sat 
there  and  heard  it,  had  very  little  conception  how  it 
would  bear  upon  his  destiny. 

This  parenthetic  excitement  diverted  for  a  few  minutes 
the  eyes  of  Bob  and  Anne  from  the  trumpet-major ;  and 
when  the  play  proceeded,  and  they  looked  back  to  his 
corner,  he  was  gone. 

'  He's  just  slipped  round  to  talk  to  her  behind  the 
scenes,'  said  Bob  knowingly.  « Shall  we  go  too,  and 
tease  him  for  a  sly  dog  ? ' 

'  No,  I  would  rather  not.7 

'  Shall  we  go  home,  then  ?  ' 

'  Not  unless  her  presence  is  too  much  for  you  ?  ' 

{ O — not  at  all.  We'll  stay  here.  Ah,  there  she  is 
again.' 

275 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

They  sat  on,  and  listened  to  Matilda's  speeches, 
which  she  delivered  with  such  delightful  coolness  that 
they  soon  began  to  considerably  interest  one  of  the  party. 

'  Well,  what  a  nerve  the  young  woman  has  ! '  he  said 
at  last  in  tones  of  admiration,  and  gazing  at  Miss 
Johnson  with  all  his  might.  '  After  all,  Jack's  taste  is 
not  so  bad.  She's  really  deuced  clever.' 

'  Bob,  I'll  go  home  if  you  wish  to,'  said  Anne  quickly. 

*  O  no — let  us  see  how  she  fleets  herself  off  that  bit 
of  a  scrape  she's  playing  at  now.     Well,  what  a  hand 
she  is  at  it,  to  be  sure ! ' 

Anne  said  no  more,  but  waited  on,  supremely  uncom- 
fortable, and  almost  tearful.  She  began  to  feel  that  she 
did  not  like  life  particularly  well ;  it  was  too  complicated  : 
she  saw  nothing  of  the  scene,  and  only  longed  to  get 
away,  and  to  get  Bob  away  with  her.  At  last  the  curtain 
fell  on  the  final  act,  and  then  began  the  farce  of  '  No 
Song  no  Supper.'  Matilda  did  not  appear  in  this  piece, 
and  Anne  again  inquired  if  they  should  go  home.  This 
time  Bob  agreed,  and  taking  her  under  his  care  with 
redoubled  affection,  to  make  up  for  the  species  of  coma 
which  had  seized  upon  his  heart  for  a  time,  he  quietly 
accompanied  her  out  of  the  house. 

When  they  emerged  upon  the  esplanade,  the  August 
moon  was  shining  across  the  sea  from  the  direction  of 
St.  Aldhelm's  Head.  Bob  unconsciously  loitered,  and 
turned  towards  the  pier.  Reaching  the  end  of  the  pro- 
menade they  surveyed  the  quivering  waters  in  silence  for 
some  time,  until  a  long  dark  line  shot  from  behind  the 
promontory  of  the  Nothe,  and  swept  forward  into  the 
harbour. 

£  What  boat  is  that  ? '  said  Anne. 

*  It  seems  to  be  some  frigate  lying  in  the  Roads,' 
said  Bob  carelessly,  as  he  brought  Anne  round  with  a 
gentle  pressure  of  his  arm  and  bent  his  steps  towards 
the  homeward  end  of  the  town. 

Meanwhile,  Miss  Johnson,  having  finished  her  duties 
276 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

for  that  evening,  rapidly  changed  her  dress,  and  went 
out  likewise.  The  prominent  position  which  Anne  and 
Captain  Bob  had  occupied  side  by  side  in  the  theatre, 
left  her  no  alternative  but  to  suppose  that  the  situation 
was  arranged  by  Bob  as  a  species  of  defiance  to  herself; 
and  her  heart,  such  as  it  was,  became  proportionately 
embittered  against  him.  In  spite  of  the  rise  in  her 
fortunes,  Miss  Johnson  still  remembered — and  always 
would  remember — her  humiliating  departure  from  Over- 
combe  ;  and  it  had  been  to  her  even  a  more  grievous 
thing  that  Bob  had  acquiesced  in  his  brother's  ruling 
than  that  John  had  determined  it.  At  the  time  of  setting 
out  she  was  sustained  by  a  firm  faith  that  Bob  would 
follow  her,  and  nullify  his  brother's  scheme ;  but  though 
she  waited  Bob  never  came. 

She  passed  along  by  the  houses  facing  the  sea,  and 
scanned  the  shore,  the  footway,  and  the  open  road  close 
to  her,  which,  illuminated  by  the  slanting  moon  to  a 
great  brightness,  sparkled  with  minute  facets  of  crystal- 
lized salts  from  the  water  sprinkled  there  during  the 
day.  The  promenaders  at  the  further  edge  appeared 
in  dark  profiles ;  and  beyond  them  was  the  grey  sea, 
parted  into  two  masses  by  the  tapering  braid  of  moon- 
light across  the  waves. 

Two  forms  crossed  this  line  at  a  startling  nearness 
to  her ;  she  marked  them  at  once  as  Anne  and  Bob 
Loveday.  They  were  walking  slowly,  and  in  the  earnest- 
ness of  their  discourse  were  oblivious  of  the  presence 
of  any  human  beings  save  themselves.  Matilda  stood 
motionless  till  they  had  passed. 

'  How  I  love  them  !  '  she  said,  treading  the  initial 
step  of  her  walk  onwards  with  a  vehemence  that  walking 
did  not  demand. 

'  So  do  I — especially  one,'  said  a  voice  at  her  elbow ; 
and  a  man  wheeled  round  her,  and  looked  in  her  face, 
which  had  been  fully  exposed  to  the  moon. 

'  You — who  are  you  ?  '  she  asked. 
277 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

'  Don't  you  remember,  ma'am  ?  We  walked  some 
way  together  towards  Overcombe  earlier  in  the  summer.' 
Matilda  looked  more  closely,  and  perceived  that  the 
speaker  was  Derriman,  in  plain  clothes.  He  continued, 
'  You  are  one  of  the  ladies  of  the  theatre,  I  know.  May 
I  ask  why  you  said  in  such  a  queer  way  that  you  loved 
that  couple  ? ' 

'  In  a  queer  way  ?  ' 

1  Well,  as  if  you  hated  them.' 

'  I  don't  mind  your  knowing  that  I  have  good  reason 
to  hate  them.  You  do  too,  it  seems  ?  ' 

'  That  man,'  said  Festus  savagely,  '  came  to  me  one 
night  about  that  very  woman ;  insulted  me  before  I 
could  put  myself  on  my  guard,  and  ran  away  before  I 
could  come  up  with  him  and  avenge  myself.  The 
woman  tricks  me  at  every  turn !  I  want  to  part  'em.' 

'  Then  why  don't  you  ?  There's  a  splendid  oppor- 
tunity. Do  you  see  that  soldier  walking  along  ?  He's 
a  marine ;  he  looks  into  the  gallery  of  the  theatre  every 
night :  and  he's  in  connexion  with  the  press-gang  that 
came  ashore  just  now  from  the  frigate  lying  in  Portland 
Roads.  They  are  often  here  for  men.' 

*  Yes.     Our  boatmen  dread  'em.' 

'  Well,  we  have  only  to  tell  him  that  Loveday  is  a 
seaman  to  be  clear  of  him  this  very  night.' 

'  Done  ! '  said  Festus.  '  Take  my  arm  and  come 
this  way.'  They  walked  across  to  the  footway.  '  Fine 
night,  sergeant.' 

'  It  is,  sir.' 

'  Looking  for  hands,  I  suppose  ?  ' 

4  It  is  not  to  be  known,  sir.  We  don't  begin  till 
half-past  ten.' 

'  It  is  a  pity  you  don't  begin  now.  I  could  show  'ee 
excellent  game.' 

'  What,  that  little  nest  of  fellows  at  the  "  Old  Rooms  " 
in  Cove  Row  ?  I  have  just  heard  of  'em.' 

'  No — come  here.'  Festus,  with  Miss  Johnson  on 
278 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

his  arm,  led  the  sergeant  quickly  along  the  parade,  and 
by  the  time  they  reached  the  Narrows  the  lovers,  who 
walked  but  slowly,  were  visible  in  front  of  them. 
1  There's  your  man,'  he  said. 

*  That  buck  in  pantaloons  and  half-boots — a  looking 
like  a  squire  ?  ' 

'  Twelve  months  ago  he  was  mate  of  the  brig  Pewit  ; 
but  his  father  has  made  money,  and  keeps  him  at 
home.' 

'  Faith,  now  you  tell  of  it,  there's  a  hint  of  sea  legs 
about  him.  What's  the  young  beau's  name  ?  ' 

1  Don't  tell ! '  whispered  Matilda,  impulsively  clutch- 
ing Festus's  arm.  ^ 

But  Festus  had  already  said,  *  Robert  Loveday,  son 
of  the  miller  at  Overcombe.  You  may  find  several  likely 
fellows  in  that  neighbourhood.' 

The  marine  said  that  he  would  bear  it  in  mind,  and 
they  left  him. 

'  I  wish  you  had  not  told,'  said  Matilda  tearfully. 
'  She's  the  worst ! ' 

'Dash  my  eyes  now;  listen  to  that!  Why,  you 
chicken-hearted  old  stager,  you  was  as  well  agreed  as  I. 
Come  now ;  hasn't  he  used  you  badly  ? ' 

Matilda's  acrimony  returned.  '  I  was  down  on  my 
luck,  or  he  wouldn't  have  had  the  chance ! '  she  said. 

*  Well,  then,  let  things  be.' 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 


MIDNIGHT  VISITORS 


XXXI 

MlSS  GARLAND  and  Loveday  walked  leisurely  to 
the  inn  and  called  for  horse -and -gig.  While  the 
hostler  was  bringing  it  round,  the  landlord,  who  knew 
Bob  and  his  family  well,  spoke  to  him  quietly  in  the 
passage. 

'  Is  this  then  because  you  want  to  throw  dust  in  the 
eyes  of  the  Black  Diamond  chaps  ?  '  (with  an  admiring 
glance  at  Bob's  costume). 

1  The  Black  Diamond  ? '  said  Bob ;  and  Anne  turned 
pale. 

'  She  hove  in  sight  just  after  dark,  and  at  nine  o'clock 
a  boat  having  more  than  a  dozen  marines  on  board, 
with  cloaks  on,  rowed  into  harbour/ 

Bob  reflected.  '  Then  there'll  be  a  press  to-night ; 
depend  upon  it,'  he  said. 

'  They  won't  know  you,  will  they,  Bob  ? '  said  Anne 
anxiously. 

*  They  certainly  won't  know  him  for  a  seaman  now,' 
remarked  the  landlord,  laughing,  and  again  surveying 
Bob  up  and  down.  *  But  if  I  was  you  two,  I  should 
drive  home-along  straight  and  quiet ;  and  be  very  busy 
in  the  mill  all  to-morrow,  Mr.  Loveday.' 
280 


THE   TRUMPET-MAJOR 

They  drove  away ;  and  when  they  had  got  onward 
out  of  the  town,  Anne  strained  her  eyes  wistfully  towards 
Portland.  Its  dark  contour,  lying  like  a  whale  on  the 
sea,  was  just  perceptible  in  the  gloom  as  the  background 
to  half-a-dozen  ships'  lights  nearer  at  hand. 

'  They  can't  make  you  go,  now  you  are  a  gentleman 
tradesman,  can  they  ? '  she  asked. 

'  If  they  want  me  they  can  have  me,  dearest.  I  have 
often  said  I  ought  to  volunteer.' 

c  And  not  care  about  me  at  all  ?  ' 

'  It  is  just  that  that  keeps  me  at  home.  I  won't 
leave  you  if  I  can  help  it.' 

1  It  cannot  make  such  a  vast  difference  to  the  country 
whether  one  man  goes  or  stays  !  But  if  you  want  to  go 
you  had  better,  and  not  mind  us  at  all ! ' 

Bob  put  a  period  to  her  speech  by  a  mark  of  affection 
to  which  history  affords  many  parallels  in  every  age. 
She  said  no  more  about  the  Black  Diamond',  but  when- 
ever they  ascended  a  hill  she  turned  her  head  to  look  at 
the  lights  in  Portland  Roads,  and  the  grey  expanse  of 
intervening  sea. 

Though  Captain  Bob  had  stated  that  he  did  not  wish 
to  volunteer,  and  would  not  leave  her  if  he  could  help  it, 
the  remark  required  some  qualification.  That  Anne 
was  charming  and  loving  enough  to  chain  him  anywhere 
was  true ;  but  he  had  begun  to  find  the  mill- work  terribly 
irksome  at  times.  Often  during  the  last  month,  when 
standing  among  the  rumbling  cogs  in  his  new  miller's 
suit,  which  ill  became  him,  he  had  yawned,  thought  wftt- 
fully  of  the  old  pea-jacket,  and  the  waters  of  the  deep 
blue  sea.  His  dread  of  displeasing  his  father  by  show- 
ing anything  of  this  change  of  sentiment  was  great ;  yet 
he  might  have  braved  it  but  for  knowing  that  his 
marriage  with  Anne,  which  he  hoped  might  take  place 
the  next  year,  was  dependent  entirely  upon  his  adherence 
to  the  mill  business.  Even  were  his  father  indifferent, 
Mrs.  Loveday  would  never  intrust  her  only  daughter  to 
281 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

the  hands  of  a  husband  who  would  be  away  from  home 
five-sixths  of  his  time. 

But  though,  apart  from  Anne,  he  was  not  averse 
to  seafaring  in  itself,  to  be  smuggled  thither  by  the 
machinery  of  a  press-gang  was  intolerable;  and  the 
process  of  seizing,  stunning,  pinioning,  and  carrying  off 
unwilling  hands  was  one  which  Bob  as  a  man  had 
always  determined  to  hold  out  against  to  the  utmost  of 
his  power.  Hence,  as  they  went  towards  home,  he 
frequently  listened  for  sounds  behind  him,  but  hearing 
none  he  assured  his  sweetheart  that  they  were  safe  for 
that  night  at  least.  The  mill  was  still  going  when  they 
arrived,  though  old  Mr.  Loveday  was  not  to  be  seen ; 
he  had  retired  as  soon  as  he  heard  the  horse's  hoofs  in 
the  lane,  leaving  Bob  to  watch  the  grinding  till  three 
o'clock ;  when  the  elder  would  rise,  and  Bob  withdraw 
to  bed — a  frequent  arrangement  between  them  since  Bob 
had  taken  the  place  of  grinder. 

Having  reached  the  privacy  of  her  own  room,  Anne 
threw  open  the  window,  for  she  had  not  the  slightest 
intention  of  going  to  bed  just  yet.  The  tale  of  the 
Black  Diamond  had  disturbed  her  by  a  slow,  insidi- 
ous process  that  was  worse  than  sudden  fright.  Her 
window  looked  into  the  court  before  the  house,  now 
wrapped  in  the  shadow  of  the  trees  and  the  hill ;  and 
she  leaned  upon  its  sill  listening  intently.  She  could 
have  heard  any  strange  sound  distinctly  enough  in  one 
direction ;  but  in  the  other  all  low  noises  were  absorbed 
in  the  patter  of  the  mill,  and  the  rush  of  water  down 
the  race. 

However,  what  she  heard  came  from  the  hitherto 
silent  side,  and  was  intelligible  in  a  moment  as  being 
the  footsteps  of  men.  She  tried  to  think  they  were 
some  late  stragglers  from  Budmouth.  Alas !  no ;  the 
tramp  was  too  regular  for  that  of  villagers.  She  hastily 
turned,  extinguished  the  candle,  and  listened  again.  As 
they  were  on  the  main  road  there  was,  after  all,  every 
282 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

probability  that  the  party  would  pass  the  bridge  which 
gave  access  to  the  mill  court  without  turning  in  upon  it, 
or  even  noticing  that  such  an  entrance  existed.  In  this 
again  she  was  disappointed :  they  crossed  into  the  front 
without  a  pause.  The  pulsations  of  her  heart  became  a 
turmoil  now,  for  why  should  these  men,  if  they  were  the 
press-gang,  and  strangers  to  the  locality,  have  supposed 
that  a  sailor  was  to  be  found  here,  the  younger  of  the 
two  millers  Loveday  being  never  seen  now  in  any  garb 
which  could  suggest  that  he  was  other  than  a  miller 
pure,  like  his  father  ?  One  of  the  men  spoke. 

'  I  am  not  sure  that  we  are  in  the  right  place,'  he 
said. 

1  This  is  a  mill,  anyhow,'  said  another. 

'  There's  lots  about  here.' 

1  Then  come  this  way  a  moment  with  your  light.' 

Two  of  the  group  went  towards  the  cart-house  on  the 
opposite  side  of  the  yard,  and  when  they  reached  it  a 
dark  lantern  was  opened,  the  rays  being  directed  upon 
the  front  of  the  miller's  waggon. 

'  "  Loveday  and  Son,  Overcombe  Mill,"  '  continued 
the  man,  reading  from  the  waggon.  '  "  Son,"  you  see, 
is  lately  painted  in.  That's  our  man.' 

He  moved  to  turn  off  the  light,  but  before  he  had 
done  so  it  flashed  over  the  forms  of  the  speakers,  and 
revealed  a  sergeant,  a  naval  officer,  and  a  file  of  marines. 

Anne  waited  to  see  no  more.  When  Bob  stayed  up 
to  grind,  as  he  was  doing  to-night,  he  often  sat  in  his 
room  instead  of  remaining  all  the  time  in  the  mill ;  and 
this  room  was  an  isolated  chamber  over  the  bakehouse, 
which  could  not  be  reached  without  going  downstairs 
and  ascending  the  step-ladder  that  served  for  his  stair- 
case. Anne  descended  in  the  dark,  clambered  up  the 
ladder,  and  saw  that  light  strayed  through  the  chink 
below  the  door.  His  window  faced  towards  the  garden, 
and  hence  the  light  could  not  as  yet  have  been  seen  by 
the  press-gang. 

283 


THE   TRUMPET-MAJOR 

c  Bob,  dear  Bob ! '  she  said,  through  the  keyhole. 
'  Put  out  your  light,  and  run  out  of  the  back-door  ! ' 

*  Why  ? '  said  Bob,  leisurely  knocking  the  ashes  from 
the  pipe  he  had  been  smoking. 

1  The  press-gang  ! ' 

1  They  have  come  ?  By  God  !  who  can  have  blown 
upon  me  ?  All  right,  dearest.  I'm  game.' 

Anne,  scarcely  knowing  what  she  did,  descended  the 
ladder  and  ran  to  the  back-door,  hastily  unbolting  it  to 
save  Bob's  time,  and  gently  opening  it  in  readiness  for 
him.  She  had  no  sooner  done  this  than  she  felt  hands 
laid  upon  her  shoulder  from  without,  and  a  voice  ex- 
claiming, '  That's  how  we  doos  it — quite  an  obleeging 
young  man ! ' 

Though  the  hands  held  her  rather  roughly,  Anne  did 
not  mind  for  herself,  and  turning  she  cried  desperately, 
in  tones  intended  to  reach  Bob's  ears  :  <  They  are  at  the 
back-door ;  try  the  front ! ' 

But  inexperienced  Miss  Garland  little  knew  the 
shrewd  habits  of  the  gentlemen  she  had  to  deal  with, 
who,  well  used  to  this  sort  of  pastime,  had  already  posted 
themselves  at  every  outlet  from  the  premises. 

1  Bring  the  lantern,'  shouted  the  fellow  who  held  her. 
c  Why — 'tis  a  girl !  I  half  thought  so. — Here  is  a  way 
in,'  he  continued  to  his  comrades,  hastening  to  the  foot 
of  the  ladder  which  led  to  Bob's  room. 

( What  d'ye  want  ? '  said  Bob,  quietly  opening  the 
door,  and  showing  himself  still  radiant  in  the  full  dress 
that  he  had  worn  with  such  effect  at  the  Theatre  Royal, 
which  he  had  been  about  to  change  for  his  mill  suit 
when  Anne  gave  the  alarm. 

'  This  gentleman  can't  be  the  right  one,'  observed  a 
marine,  rather  impressed  by  Bob's  appearance. 

*  Yes,  yes ;  that's  the  man,'  said  the  sergeant.     '  Now 
take  it  quietly,  my  young  cock-o'-wax.     You  look  as  if 
you  meant  to,  and  'tis  wise  of  ye.' 

*  Where  are  you  going  to  take  me  ? '  said  Bob. 

284 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

'  Only  aboard  the  Black  Diamond.  If  you  choose  to 
take  the  bounty  and  come  voluntarily,  you'll  be  allowed 
to  go  ashore  whenever  your  ship's  in  port.  If  you  don't, 
and  we've  got  to  pinion  ye,  you  will  not  have  your 
liberty  at  all.  As  you  must  come,  willy-nilly,  you'll  do 
the  first  if  you've  any  brains  whatever.' 

Bob's  temper  began  to  rise.  '  Don't  you  talk  so 
large,  about  your  pinioning,  my  man.  When  I've 
settled ' 

'  Now  or  never,  young  blow-hard,'  interrupted  his 
informant. 

'  Come,  what  jabber  is  this  going  on  ? '  said  the  lieu- 
tenant, stepping  forward.  *  Bring  your  man.' 

One  of  the  marines  set  foot  on  the  ladder,  but  at  the 
same  moment  a  shoe  from  Bob's  hand  hit  the  lantern 
with  well-aimed  directness,  knocking  it  clean  out  of  the 
grasp  of  the  man  who  held  it.  In  spite  of  the  darkness 
they  began  to  scramble  up  the  ladder.  Bob  thereupon 
shut  the  door,  which  being  but  of  slight  construction, 
was  as  he  knew  only  a  momentary  defence.  But  it 
gained  him  time  enough  to  open  the  window,  gather  up 
his  legs  upon  the  sill,  and  spring  across  into  the  apple- 
tree  growing  without.  He  alighted  without  much  hurt 
beyond  a  few  scratches  from  the  boughs,  a  shower  of 
falling  apples  testifying  to  the  force  of  his  leap. 

'  Here  he  is ! '  shouted  several  below  who  had  seen 
Bob's  figure  flying  like  a  raven's  across  the  sky. 

There  was  stillness  for  a  moment  in  the  tree.  Then 
the  fugitive  made  haste  to  climb  out  upon  a  low- 
hanging  branch  towards  the  garden,  at  which  the  men 
beneath  all  rushed  in  that  direction  to  catch  him  as  he 
dropped,  saying,  « You  may  as  well  come  down,  old  boy. 
'Twas  a  spry  jump,  and  we  give  ye  credit  for  't.' 

The  latter  movement  of  Loveday  had  been  a  mere 
feint.  Partly  hidden  by  the  leaves  he  glided  back  to  the 
other  part  of  the  tree,  from  whence  it  was  easy  to  jump 
upon  a  thatch-covered  out-house.  This  intention  they 

285 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

did  not  appear  to  suspect,  which  gave  him  the  oppor- 
tunity of  sliding  down  the  slope  and  entering  the  back- 
door of  the  mill. 

'  He's  here,  he's  here ! '  the  men  exclaimed,  running 
back  from  the  tree. 

By  this  time  they  had  obtained  another  light,  and 
pursued  him  closely  along  the  back  quarters  of  the  mill. 
Bob  had  entered  the  lower  room,  seized  hold  of  the 
chain  by  which  the  flour-sacks  were  hoisted  from  story 
to  story  by  connexion  with  the  mill-wheel,  and  pulled 
the  rope  that  hung  alongside  for  the  purpose  of  throwing 
it  into  gear.  The  foremost  pursuers  arrived  just  in 
time  to  see  Captain  Bob's  legs  and  shoe-buckles  vanishing 
through  the  trap-door  in  the  joists  overhead,  his  person 
having  been  whirled  up  by  the  machinery  like  any  bag 
of  flour,  and  the  trap  falling  to  behind  him. 

'  He's  gone  up  by  the  hoist ! '  said  the  sergeant,  run- 
ning up  the  ladder  in  the  corner  to  the  next  floor,  and 
elevating  the  light  just  in  time  to  see  Bob's  suspended 
figure  ascending  in  the  same  way  through  the  same  sort 
of  trap  into  the  second  floor.  The  second  trap  also  fell 
together  behind  him,  and  he  was  lost  to  view  as  before. 

It  was  more  difficult  to  follow  now ;  there  was  only  a 
flimsy  little  ladder,  and  the  man  ascended  cautiously. 
When  they  stepped  out  upon  the  loft  it  was  empty. 

'  He  must  ha'  let  go  here,'  said  one  of  the  marines, 
who  knew  more  about  mills  than  the  others.  '  If  he  had 
held  fast  a  moment  longer,  he  would  have  been  dashed 
against  that  beam.' 

They  looked  up.  The  hook  by  which  Bob  had  held 
on  had  ascended  to  the  roof,  and  was  winding  round  the 
cylinder.  Nothing  was  visible  elsewhere  but  boarded 
divisions  like  the  stalls  of  a  stable,  on  each  side  of  the 
stage  they  stood  upon,  these  compartments  being  more 
or  less  heaped  up  with  wheat  and  barley  in  the  grain. 

*  Perhaps  he's  buried  himself  in  the  corn.' 

The  whole  crew  jumped  into  the  corn-bins,  and  stirred 
286 


THE   TRUMPET-MAJOR 

about  their  yellow  contents;  but  neither  arm,  leg,  nor 
coat-tail  was  uncovered.  They  removed  sacks,  peeped 
among  the  rafters  of  the  roof,  but  to  no  purpose.  The 
lieutenant  began  to  fume  at  the  loss  of  time. 

« What  cursed  fools  to  let  the  man  go  !  Why,  look 
here,  what's  this  ?  '  He  had  opened  the  door  by  which 
sacks  were  taken  in  from  waggons  without,  and  dangling 
from  the  cat-head  projecting  above  it  was  the  rope  used 
in  lifting  them.  '  There's  the  way  he  went  down,'  the 
officer  continued.  '  The  man's  gone.' 

Amidst  mumblings  and  curses  the  gang  descended 
the  pair  of  ladders  and  came  into  the  open  air;  but 
Captain  Bob  was  nowhere  to  be  seen.  When  they 
reached  the  front  door  of  the  house  the  miller  was  stand- 
ing on  the  threshold,  half  dressed. 

'  Your  son  is  a  clever  fellow,  miller,'  said  the  lieu- 
tenant ;  c  but  it  would  have  been  much  better  for  him  if 
he  had  come  quiet.' 

'  That's  a  matter  of  opinion,'  said  Loveday. 

*  I  have  no  doubt  that  he's  in  the  house.' 

*  He  may  be ;  and  he  may  not.' 
'  Do  you  know  where  he  is  ?  ' 

'  I  do  not ;  and  if  I  did  I  shouldn't  tell.' 

« Naturally.' 

'  I  heard  steps  beating  up  the  road,  sir,'  said  the 
sergeant. 

They  turned  from  the  door,  and  leaving  four  of  the 
marines  to  keep  watch  round  the  house,  the  remainder 
of  the  party  marched  into  the  lane  as  far  as  where  the 
other  road  branched  off.  While  they  were  pausing  to 
decide  which  course  to  take,  one  of  the  soldiers  held 
up  the  light.  A  black  object  was  discernible  upon  the 
ground  before  them,  and  they  found  it  to  be  a  hat — the 
hat  of  Bob  Loveday. 

'We  are  on  the  track,'  cried  the  sergeant,  deciding 
for  this  direction. 

They  tore  on  rapidly,  and  the  footsteps  previously 

287 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

heard  became  audible  again,  increasing  in  clearness, 
which  told  that  they  gained  upon  the  fugitive,  who  in 
another  five  minutes  stopped  and  turned.  The  rays  of 
the  candle  fell  upon  Anne. 

*  What  do  you  want  ? '  she  said,  showing  her  fright- 
ened face. 

They  made  no  reply,  but  wheeled  round  and  left 
her.  She  sank  down  on  the  bank  to  rest,  having  done 
all  she  could.  It  was  she  who  had  taken  down  Bob's 
hat  from  a  nail,  and  dropped  it  at  the  turning  with 
the  view  of  misleading  them  till  he  should  have  got 
clear  off. 


THE   TRUMPET-MAJOR 


DELIVERANCE 

XXXII 

13  UT  Anne  Garland  was  too  anxious  to  remain  long 
away  from  the  centre  of  operations.  When  she  got 
back  she  found  that  the  press-gang  were  standing  in  the 
court  discussing  their  next  move. 

*  Waste  no  more  time  here,'  the  lieutenant  said. 
*  Two  more  villages  to  visit  to-night,  and  the  nearest 
three  miles  off.  There's  nobody  else  in  this  place,  and 
we  can't  come  back  again.' 

When  they  were  moving  away,  one  of  the  private 
marines,  who  had  kept  his  eye  on  Anne,  and  noticed 
her  distress,  contrived  to  say  in  a  whisper  as  he  passed 
her,  'We  are  coming  back  again  as  soon  as  it  begins 
to  get  light ;  that's  only  said  to  deceive  'ee.  Keep  your 
young  man  out  of  the  way.' 

They  went  as  they  had  come ;  and  the  little  house- 
hold then  met  together,  Mrs.  Loveday  having  by  this 
time  dressed  herself  and  come  down.  A  long  and 
anxious  discussion  followed. 

'  Somebody  must  have  told  upon  the  chap,'  Loveday 
remarked.  '  How  should  they  have  found  him  out  else, 
now  he's  been  home  from  sea  this  twelvemonth  ?  ' 

Anne  then  mentioned  what  the  friendly  marine  had 
289  T 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

told  her;  and  fearing  lest  Bob  was  in  the  house,  and 
would  be  discovered  there  when  daylight  came,  they 
searched  and  called  for  him  everywhere. 

'  What  clothes  has  he  got  on  ? '  said  the  miller. 

*  His  lovely  new  suit,'  said  his  wife.  '  I  warrant  it  is 
quite  spoiled ! ' 

'  He's  got  no  hat,'  said  Anne. 

'  Well,'  said  Loveday,  *  you  two  go  and  lie  down  now 
and  I'll  bide  up ;  and  as  soon  as  he  comes  in,  which  he'll 
do  most  likely  in  the  course  of  the  night,  I'll  let  him 
know  that  they  are  coming  again.' 

Anne  and  Mrs.  Loveday  went  to  their  bedrooms,  and 
the  miller  entered  the  mill  as  if  he  were  simply  staying 
up  to  grind.  But  he  continually  left  the  flour-shoot  to 
go  outside  and  walk  round ;  each  time  he  could  see  no 
living  being  near  the  spot.  Anne  meanwhile  had  lain 
down  dressed  upon  her  bed,  the  window  still  open,  her 
ears  intent  upon  the  sound  of  footsteps,  and  dreading  the 
reappearance  of  daylight  and  the  gang's  return.  Three 
or  four  times  during  the  night  she  descended  to  the  mill 
to  inquire  of  her  stepfather  if  Bob  had  shown  himself; 
but  the  answer  was  always  in  the  negative. 

At  length  the  curtains  of  her  bed  began  to  reveal  their 
pattern,  the  brass  handles  of  the  drawers  gleamed  forth, 
and  day  dawned.  While  the  light  was  yet  no  more  than 
a  suffusion  of  pallor,  she  arose,  put  on  her  hat,  and  deter- 
mined to  explore  the  surrounding  premises  before  the 
men  arrived.  Emerging  into  the  raw  loneliness  of  the 
daybreak,  she  went  upon  the  bridge  and  looked  up  and 
down  the  road.  It  was  as  she  had  left  it,  empty,  and 
the  solitude  was  rendered  yet  more  insistent  by  the 
silence  of  the  mill-wheel,  which  was  now  stopped,  the 
miller  having  given  up  expecting  Bob  and  retired  to  bed 
about  three  o'clock.  The  footprints  of  the  marines  still 
remained  in  the  dust  on  the  bridge,  all  the  heel-marks 
towards  the  house,  showing  that  the  party  had  not  as  yet 
returned. 

290 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

While  she  lingered  she  heard  a  slight  noise  in  the 
other  direction,  and,  turning,  saw  a  woman  approaching. 
The  woman  came  up  quickly,  and,  to  her  amazement, 
Anne  recognized  Matilda.  Her  walk  was  convulsive, 
face  pale,  almost  haggard,  and  the  cold  light  of  the 
morning  invested  it  with  all  the  ghostliness  of  death. 
She  had  plainly  walked  all  the  way  from  Budmouth,  for 
her  shoes  were  covered  with  dust. 

'  Has  the  press-gang  been  here  ? '  she  gasped.  '  If 
not  they  are  coming  ! ' 

1  They  have  been.' 

1  And  got  him — I  am  too  late  ! ' 

'  No ;  they  are  coming  back  again.     Why  did  you — ' 

'  I  came  to  try  to  save  him.  Can  we  save  him  ? 
Where  is  he?' 

Anne  looked  the  woman  in  the  face,  and  it  was  im- 
possible to  doubt  that  she  was  in  earnest. 

'  I  don't  know,'  she  answered.  '  I  am  trying  to  find 
him  before  they  come.' 

4  Will  you  not  let  me  help  you  ? '  cried  the  repentant 
Matilda. 

Without  either  objecting  or  assenting  Anne  turned 
and  led  the  way  to  the  back  part  of  the  homestead. 

Matilda,  too,  had  suffered  that  night.  From  the 
moment  of  parting  with  Festus  Derriman  a  sentiment  of 
revulsion  from  the  act  to  which  she  had  been  a  party  set 
in  and  increased,  till  at  length  it  reached  an  intensity  of 
remorse  which  she  could  not  passively  bear.  She  had 
risen  before  day  and  hastened  thitherward  to  know  the 
worst,  and  if  possible  hinder  consequences  that  she  had 
been  the  first  to  set  in  train. 

After  going  hither  and  thither  in  the  adjoining  field, 
Anne  entered  the  garden.  The  walks  were  bathed  in 
grey  dew,  and  as  she  passed  observantly  along  them  it 
appeared  as  if  they  had  been  brushed  by  some  foot  at  a 
much  earlier  hour.  At  the  end  of  the  garden,  bushes 
of  broom,  laurel,  and  yew  formed  a  constantly  encroach- 
291 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

ing  shrubbery,  that  had  come  there  almost  by  chance, 
and  was  never  trimmed.  Behind  these  bushes  was  a 
garden-seat,  and  upon  it  lay  Bob  sound  asleep. 

The  ends  of  his  hair  were  clotted  with  damp,  and 
there  was  a  foggy  film  upon  the  mirror-like  buttons  of 
his  coat,  and  upon  the  buckles  of  his  shoes.  His  bunch 
of  new  gold  seals  was  dimmed  by  the  same  insidious 
dampness ;  his  shirt-frill  and  muslin  neckcloth  were 
limp  as  seaweed.  It  was  plain  that  he  had  been  there 
a  long  time.  Anne  shook  him,  but  he  did  not  awake, 
his  breathing  being  slow  and  stertorous. 

*  Bob,  wake ;  'tis  your  own  Anne ! '  she  said,  with 
innocent  earnestness;  and  then,  fearfully  turning  her 
head,  she  saw  that  Matilda  was  close  behind  her. 

'You  needn't  mind  me,'  said  Matilda  bitterly.  'I 
am  on  your  side  now.  Shake  him  again.' 

Anne  shook  him  again,  but  he  slept  on.  Then  she 
noticed  that  his  forehead  bore  the  mark  of  a  heavy 
wound. 

'  I  fancy  I  hear  something ! '  said  her  companion, 
starting  forward  and  endeavouring  to  wake  Bob  herself. 
'  He  is  stunned,  or  drugged ! '  she  said \  <  there  is  no 
rousing  him.' 

Anne  raised  her  head  and  listened.  From  the 
direction  of  the  eastern  road  came  the  sound  of  a 
steady  tramp.  '  They  are  coming  back ! '  she  said, 
clasping  her  hands.  '  They  will  take  him,  ill  as  he  is ! 
He  won't  open  his  eyes — no,  it  is  no  use !  O,  what 
shall  we  do  ? ' 

Matilda  did  not  reply,  but  running  to  the  end  of 
the  seat  on  which  Bob  lay,  tried  its  weight  in  her  arms. 

'  It  is  not  too  heavy,'  she  said.  « You  take  that  end, 
and  I'll  take  this.  We'll  carry  him  away  to  some  place 
of  hiding/ 

Anne  instantly  seized  the  other  end,  and  they  pro- 
ceeded with  their  burden  at  a  slow  pace  to  the  lower 
garden-gate,   which  they  reached  as  the  tread  of  the 
292 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

press-gang  resounded  over  the  bridge  that  gave  access 
to  the  mill  court,  now  hidden  from  view  by  the  hedge 
and  the  trees  of  the  garden. 

'We  will  go  down  inside  this  field,'  said  Anne 
faintly. 

'  No  ! '  said  the  other ;  '  they  will  see  our  foot-tracks 
in  the  dew.  We  must  go  into  the  road.' 

1  It  is  the  very  road  they  will  come  down  when  they 
leave  the  mill.' 

*  It  cannot  be  helped ;  it  is  neck  or  nothing  with  us 
now.' 

So  they  emerged  upon  the  road,  and  staggered  along 
without  speaking,  occasionally  resting  for  a  moment  to 
ease  their  arms ;  then  shaking  him  to  arouse  him,  and 
finding  it  useless,  seizing  the  seat  again.  When  they 
had  gone  about  two  hundred  yards  Matilda  betrayed 
signs  of  exhaustion,  and  she  asked,  '  Is  there  no  shelter 
near  ? ' 

'  When  we  get  to  that  little  field  of  corn,'  said  Anne. 

'  It  is  so  very  far.     Surely  there  is  some  place  near  ?  ' 

She  pointed  to  a  few  scrubby  bushes  overhanging  a 
little  stream,  which  passed  under  the  road  near  this  point. 

*  They  are  not  thick  enough,'  said  Anne. 

'  Let  us  fake  him  under  the  bridge,'  said  Matilda. 
'  I  can  go  no  further.' 

Entering  the  opening  by  which  cattle  descended  to 
drink,  they  waded  into  the  weedy  water,  which  here  rose 
a  few  inches  above  their  ankles.  To  ascend  the  stream, 
stoop  under  the  arch,  and  reach  the  centre  of  the  road- 
way, was  the  work  of  a  few  minutes. 

'  If  they  look  under  the  arch  we  are  lost,'  murmured 
Anne. 

4  There  is  no  parapet  to  the  bridge,  and  they  may 
pass  over  without  heeding.' 

They  waited,  their  heads  almost  in  contact  with  the 
reeking  arch,  and  their  feet  encircled  by  the  stream, 
which  was  at  its  summer  lowness  now.  For  some 
293 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

minutes  they  could  hear  nothing  but  the  babble  of  the 
water  over  their  ankles,  and  round  the  legs  of  the  seat 
on  which  Bob  slumbered,  the  sounds  being  reflected  in 
a  musical  tinkle  from  the  hollow  sides  of  the  arch. 
Anne's  anxiety  now  was  lest  he  should  not  continue 
sleeping  till  the  search  was  over,  but  start  up  with  his 
habitual  imprudence,  and  scorning  such  means  of  safety, 
rush  out  into  their  arms. 

A  quarter  of  an  hour  dragged  by,  and  then  indications 
reached  their  ears  that  the  re-examination  of  the  mill 
had  begun  and  ended.  The  well-known  tramp  drew 
nearer,  and  reverberated  through  the  ground  over  their 
heads,  where  its  volume  signified  to  the  listeners  that 
the  party  had  been  largely  augmented  by  pressed  men 
since  the  night  preceding.  The  gang  passed  the  arch, 
and  the  noise  regularly  diminished,  as  if  no  man  among 
them  had  thought  of  looking  aside  for  a  moment. 

Matilda  broke  the  silence.  '  I  wonder  if  they  have 
left  a  watch  behind  ? '  she  said  doubtfully. 

'  I  will  go  and  see,'  said  Anne.     '  Wait  till  I  return.' 

'  No ;  I  can  do  no  more.  When  you  come  back  I 
shall  be  gone.  I  ask  one  thing  of  you.  If  all  goes  well 
with  you  and  him,  and  he  marries  you — don't  be  alarmed ; 
my  plans  lie  elsewhere — when  you  are  his  wife  tell  him 
who  helped  to  carry  him  away.  But  don't  mention  my 
name  to  the  rest  of  your  family,  either  now  or  at  any 
time.' 

Anne  regarded  the  speaker  for  a  moment,  and  pro- 
mised ;  after  which  she  waded  out  from  the  archway. 

Matilda  stood  looking  at  Bob  for  a  moment,  as  if 
preparing  to  go,  till  moved  by  some  impulse  she  bent 
and  lightly  kissed  him  once. 

'  How  can  you  ! '  cried  Anne  reproachfully.  When 
leaving  the  mouth  of  the  arch  she  had  bent  back  and 
seen  the  act. 

Matilda  flushed.  *  You  jealous  baby ! '  she  said 
scornfully. 

294 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

Anne  hesitated  for  a  moment,  then  went  out  from 
the  water,  and  hastened  towards  the  mill. 

She  entered  by  the  garden,  and,  seeing  no  one, 
advanced  and  peeped  in  at  the  window.  Her  mother 
and  Mr.  Loveday  were  sitting  within  as  usual. 

'  Are  they  all  gone  ? '  said  Anne  softly. 

{ Yes.  They  did  not  trouble  us  much,  beyond  going 
into  every  room,  and  searching  about  the  garden,  where 
they  saw  steps.  They  have  been  lucky  to-night ;  they 
have  caught  fifteen  or  twenty  men  at  places  further  on ; 
so  the  loss  of  Bob  was  no  hurt  to  their  feelings.  I 
wonder  where  in  the  world  the  poor  fellow  is ! ' 

'  I  will  show  you,'  said  Anne.  And  explaining  in  a 
few  words  what  had  happened,  she  was  promptly  followed 
by  David  and  Loveday  along  the  road.  She  lifted  her 
dress  and  entered  the  arch  with  some  anxiety  on  account 
of  Matilda ;  but  the  actress  was  gone,  and  Bob  lay  on 
the  seat  as  she  had  left  him. 

Bob  was  brought  out,  and  water  thrown  upon  his 
face ;  but  though  he  moved  he  did  not  rouse  himself 
until  some  time  after  he  had  been  borne  into  the  house. 
Here  he  opened  his  eyes,  and  saw  them  standing  round, 
and  gathered  a  little  consciousness. 

4  You  are  all  right,  my  boy  ! '  said  his  father.  '  What 
hev  happened  to  ye  ?  Where  did  ye  get  that  terrible 
blow  ? ' 

*  Ah — I  can  mind  now,'  murmured  Bob,  with  a 
stupefied  gaze  around.  '  I  fell  in  slipping  down  the 
topsail  halyard — the  rope,  that  is,  was  too  short — and 
I  fell  upon  my  head.  And  then  I  went  away.  When 
I  came  back  I  thought  I  wouldn't  disturb  ye  :  so  I  lay 
down  out  there,  to  sleep  out  the  watch ;  but  the  pain 
in  my  head  was  so  great  that  I  couldn't  get  to  sleep  ; 
so  I  picked  some  of  the  poppy-heads  in  the  border, 
which  I  once  heard  was  a  good  thing  for  sending  folks 
to  sleep  when  they  are  in  pain.  So  I  munched  up  all 
I  could  find,  and  dropped  off  quite  nicely.' 
295 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

1 1  wondered  who  had  picked  'em  ! '  said  Molly.  '  I 
noticed  they  were  gone.' 

'  Why,  you  might  never  have  woke  again  ! '  said 
Mrs.  Loveday,  holding  up  her  hands.  *  How  is  your 
head  now  ? ' 

1  I  hardly  know/  replied  the  young  man,  putting  his 
hand  to  his  forehead  and  beginning  to  doze  again. 
4  Where  be  those  fellows  that  boarded  us  ?  With  this 
— smooth  water  and — fine  breeze  we  ought  to  get  away 
from  'em.  Haul  in — the  larboard  braces,  and — bring 
her  to  the  wind.' 

*  You  are  at  home,  dear  Bob/  said  Anne,  bending 
over  him,  '  and  the  men  are  gone.' 

1  Come  along  upstairs  :  th'  beest  hardly  awake  now/ 
said  his  father  j  and  Bob  was  assisted  to  bed. 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 


A  DISCOVERY 

TURNS  7 HE  SCALE 

XXXIII 

IN  four-and-twenty  hours  Bob  had  recovered.  But 
though  physically  himself  again,  he  was  not  at  all  sure 
of  his  position  as  a  patriot.  He  had  that  practical 
knowledge  of  seamanship  of  which  the  country  stood 
much  in  need,  and  it  was  humiliating  to  find  that 
impressment  seemed  to  be  necessary  to  teach  him  to 
use  it  for  her  advantage.  Many  neighbouring  young 
men,  less  fortunate  than  himself,  had  been  pressed 
and  taken;  and  their  absence  seemed  a  reproach  to 
him.  He  went  away  by  himself  into  the  mill-roof, 
and,  surrounded  by  the  corn-heaps,  gave  vent  to 
self-condemnation. 

'  Certainly,  I  am  no  man  to  lie  here  so  long  for  the 
pleasure  of  sighting  that  young  girl  forty  times  a  day, 
and  letting  her  sight  me — bless  her  eyes  ! — till  I  must 
needs  want  a  press-gang  to  teach  me  what  I've  forgot. 
And  is  it  then  all  over  with  me  as  a  British  sailor? 
We'll  see.' 

When  he  was  thrown  under  the  influence  of  Anne's 

eyes  again,  which  were  more  tantalizingly  beautiful  than 

ever  just  now  (so  it  seemed  to  him),  his  intention  of 

offering   his    services   to   the   Government  would   wax 

297 


THE   TRUMPET  MAJOR 

weaker,  and  he  would  put  off  his  final  decision  till  the 
next  day.  Anne  saw  these  fluctuations  of  his  mind 
between  love  and  patriotism,  and  being  terrified  by  what 
she  had  heard  of  sea-fights,  used  the  utmost  art  of  which 
she  was  capable  to  seduce  him  from  his  forming 
purpose.  She  came  to  him  in  the  mill,  wearing  the 
very  prettiest  of  her  morning  jackets — the  one  that  only 
just  passed  the  waist,  and  was  laced  so  tastefully  round 
the  collar  and  bosom.  Then  she  would  appear  in  her 
new  hat,  with  a  bouquet  of  primroses  on  one  side ;  and 
on  the  following  Sunday  she  walked  before  him  in 
lemon-coloured  boots,  so  that  her  feet  looked  like  a  pair 
of  yellow-hammers  flitting  under  her  dress. 

But  dress  was  the  least  of  the  means  she  adopted  for 
chaining  him  down.  She  talked  more  tenderly  than 
ever;  asked  him  to  begin  small  undertakings  in  the 
garden  on  her  account ;  she  sang  about  the  house,  that 
the  place  might  seem  cheerful  when  he  came  in.  This 
singing  for  a  purpose  required  great  effort  on  her  part, 
leaving  her  afterwards  very  sad.  When  Bob  asked  her 
what  was  the  matter,  she  would  say,  « Nothing ;  only  I 
am  thinking  how  you  will  grieve  your  father,  and  cross 
his  purposes,  if  you  carry  out  your  unkind  notion  of 
going  to  sea,  and  forsaking  your  place  in  the  mill.' 

'  Yes,'  Bob  would  say  uneasily.  *  It  will  trouble 
him,  I  know.' 

Being  also  quite  aware  how  it  would  trouble  her,  he 
would  again  postpone,  and  thus  another  week  passed 
away. 

All  this  time  John  had  not  come  once  to  the  mill.  It 
appeared  as  if  Miss  Johnson  absorbed  all  his  time  and 
thoughts.  Bob  was  often  seen  chuckling  over  the  cir- 
cumstance. '  A  sly  rascal ! '  he  said.  '  Pretending  on 
the  day  she  came  to  be  married  that  she  was  not  good 
enough  for  me,  when  it  was  only  that  he  wanted  her  for 
himself.  How  he  could  have  persuaded  her  to  go  away 
is  beyond  me  to  say  ! ' 

298 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

Anne  could  not  contest  this  belief  of  her  lover's,  and 
remained  silent ;  but  there  had  more  than  once  occurred 
to  her  mind  a  doubt  of  its  probability.  Yet  she  had 
only  abandoned  her  opinion  that  John  had  schemed  for 
Matilda,  to  embrace  the  opposite  error ;  that,  finding  he 
had  wronged  the  young  lady,  he  had  pitied  and  grown  to 
love  her. 

'  And  yet  Jack,  when  he  was  a  boy,  was  the  simplest 
fellow  alive,'  resumed  Bob.  '  By  George,  though,  I 
should  have  been  hot  against  him  for  such  a  trick,  if  in 
losing  her  I  hadn't  found  a  better!  But  she'll  never 
come  down  to  him  in  the  world :  she  has  high  notions 
now.  I  am  afraid  he's  doomed  to  sigh  in  vain  ! ' 

Though  Bob  regretted  this  possibility,  the  feeling  was 
not  reciprocated  by  Anne.  It  was  true  that  she  knew 
nothing  of  Matilda's  temporary  treachery,  and  that  she 
disbelieved  the  story  of  her  lack  of  virtue ;  but  she  did 
not  like  the  woman.  '  Perhaps  it  will  not  matter  if  he  is 
doomed  to  sigh  in  vain,'  she  said.  '  But  I  owe  him  no 
ill-will.  I  have  profited  by  his  doings,  incomprehensible 
as  they  are.'  And  she  bent  her  fair  eyes  on  Bob  and 
smiled. 

Bob  looked  dubious.  '  He  thinks  he  has  affronted 
me,  now  I  have  seen  through  him,  and  that  I  shall  be 
against  meeting  him.  But,  of  course,  I  am  not  so  touchy. 
I  can  stand  a  practical  joke,  as  can  any  man  who  has 
been  afloat.  I'll  call  and  see  him,  and  tell  him  so.' 

Before  he  started,  Bob  bethought  him  of  something 
which  would  still  further  prove  to  the  misapprehending 
John  that  he  was  entirely  forgiven.  He  went  to  his 
room,  and  took  from  his  chest  a  packet  containing  a  lock 
of  Miss  Johnson's  hair,  which  she  had  given  him  during 
their  brief  acquaintance,  and  which  till  now  he  had  quite 
forgotten.  When,  at  starting,  he  wished  Anne  good- 
bye, it  was  accompanied  by  such  a  beaming  face,  that 
she  knew  he  was  full  of  an  idea,  and  asked  what  it  might 
be  that  pleased  him  so. 

299 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

'  Why,  this/  he  said,  smacking  his  breast-pocket.  '  A 
lock  of  hair  that  Matilda  gave  me.' 

Anne  sank  back  with  parted  lips. 

'  I  am  going  to  give  it  to  Jack — he'll  jump  for  joy  to 
get  it !  And  it  will  show  him  how  willing  I  am  to  give 
her  up  to  him,  fine  piece  as  she  is.' 

'  Will  you  see  her  to-day,  Bob  ?  '  Anne  asked  with  an 
uncertain  smile. 

'  O  no — unless  it  is  by  accident.' 

On  reaching  the  outskirts  of  the  town  he  went  straight 
to  the  barracks,  and  was  lucky  enough  to  find  John  in 
his  room,  at  the  left-hand  corner  of  the,  quadrangle. 
John  was  glad  to  see  him;  but  to  Bob's  surprise  he 
showed  no  immediate  contrition,  and  thus  afforded  no 
room  for  the  brotherly  speech  of  forgiveness  which  Bob 
had  been  going  to  deliver.  As  the  trumpet-major  did 
not  open  the  subject,  Bob  felt  it  desirable  to  begin 
himself. 

'I  have  brought  ye  something  that  you  will  value, 
Jack,'  he  said,  as  they  sat  at  the  window,  overlooking 
the  large  square  barrack-yard.  '  I  have  got  no  further 
use  for  it,  and  you  should  have  had  it  before  if  it  had 
entered  my  head.' 

*  Thank  you,  Bob ;  what  is  it  ? '  said  John,  looking 
absently  at  an  awkward  squad  of  young  men  who  were 
drilling  in  the  enclosure. 

1  Tis  a  young  woman's  lock  of  hair.' 

'  Ah ! '  said  John,  quite  recovering  from  his  abstrac- 
tion, and  slightly  flushing.  Could  Bob  and  Anne  have 
quarrelled  ?  Bob  drew  the  paper  from  his  pocket,  and 
opened  it. 

1  Black  ! '  said  John. 

'  Yes — black  enough.' 

<  Whose  ? ' 

'  Why,  Matilda's.' 

'  O,  Matilda's  ! ' 

1  Whose  did  you  think  then  ?  ' 
300 


THE   TRUMPET-MAJOR 

Instead  of  replying,  the  trumpet-major's  face  became 
as  red  as  sunset,  and  he  turned  to  the  window  to  hide 
his  confusion. 

Bob  was  silent,  and  then  he,  too,  looked  into  the 
court.  At  length  he  arose,  walked  to  his  brother,  and 
laid  his  hand  upon  his  shoulder.  '  Jack/  he  said,  in  an 
altered  voice,  '  you  are  a  good  fellow.  Now  I  see  it  all.' 

1  O  no — that's  nothing/  said  John  hastily. 

4  You've  been  pretending  that  you  care  for  this 
woman  that  I  mightn't  blame  myself  for  heaving  you 
out  from  the  other — which  is  what  I've  done  without 
knowing  it.3 

*  What  does  it  matter  ? 

{  But  it  does  matter  !  I've  been  making  you  unhappy 
all  these  weeks  and  weeks  through  my  thoughtlessness. 
They  seemed  to  think  at  home,  you  know,  John,  that 
you  had  grown  not  to  care  for  her ;  or  I  wouldn't  have 
done  it  for  all  the  world  ! ' 

1  You  stick  to  her,  Bob,  and  never  mind  me.  She 
belongs  to  you.  She  loves  you.  I  have  no  claim  upon 
her,  and  she  thinks  nothing  about  me.' 

'  She  likes  you,  John,  thoroughly  well ;  so  does 
everybody ;  and  if  I  hadn't  come  home,  putting  my  foot 
in  it —  That  coming  home  of  mine  has  been  a  regular 
blight  upon  the  family !  I  ought  never  to  have  stayed. 
The  sea  is  my  home,  and  why  couldn't  I  bide  there  ? ' 

The  trumpet  -  major  drew  Bob's  discourse  off  the 
subject  as  soon  as  he  could,  and  Bob,  after  some  un- 
considered  replies  and  remarks,  seemed  willing  to  avoid 
it  for  the  present.  He  did  not  ask  John  to  accompany 
him  home,  as  he  had  intended;  and  on  leaving  the 
barracks  turned  southward  and  entered  the  town  to 
wander  about  till  he  could  decide  what  to  do. 

It  was  the  3rd  of  September,  but  the  King's  watering- 
place  still  retained  its  summer  aspect.  The  royal 
bathing-machine  had  been  drawn  out  just  as  Bob 
reached  Gloucester  Buildings,  and  he  waited  a  minute, 
301 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

in  the  lack  of  other  distraction,  to  look  on.  Immedi- 
ately that  the  King's  machine  had  entered  the  water  a 
group  of  florid  men  with  fiddles,  violoncellos,  a  trom- 
bone, and  a  drum,  came  forward,  packed  themselves 
into  another  machine  that  was  in  waiting,  and  were 
drawn  out  into  the  waves  in  the  King's  rear.  All  that 
was  to  be  heard  for  a  few  minutes  were  the  slow  pulsa- 
tions of  the  sea ;  and  then  a  deafening  noise  burst  from 
the  interior  of  the  second  machine  with  power  enough 
to  split  the  boards  asunder ;  it  was  the  condensed  mass 
of  musicians  inside,  striking  up  the  strains  of  '  God  save 
the  King,'  as  his  Majesty's  head  rose  from  the  water. 
Bob  took  off  his  hat  and  waited  till  the  end  of  the 
performance,  which,  intended  as  a  pleasant  surprise  to 
George  III.  by  the  loyal  burghers,  was  possibly  in  the 
watery  circumstances  tolerated  rather  than  desired  by 
that  dripping  monarch.* 

Loveday  then  passed  on  to  the  harbour,  where  he 
remained  awhile,  looking  at  the  busy  scene  of  loading 
and  unloading  craft  and  swabbing  the  decks  of  yachts ; 
at  the  boats  and  barges  rubbing  against  the  quay  wall, 
and  at  the  houses  of  the  merchants,  some  ancient 
structures  of  solid  stone,  others  green-shuttered  with 
heavy  wooden  bow-windows  which  appeared  as  if  about 
to  drop  into  the  harbour  by  their  own  weight.  All 
these  things  he  gazed  upon, 'and  thought  of  one  thing — 
that  he  had  caused  great  misery  to  his  brother  John. 

The  town  clock  struck,  and  Bob  retraced  his  steps 
till  he  again  approached  the  Esplanade  and  Gloucester 
Lodge,  where  the  morning  sun  blazed  in  upon  the  house 
fronts,  and  not  a  spot  of  shade  seemed  to  be  attainable. 
A  huzzaing  attracted  his  attention,  and  he  observed  that 
a  number  of  people  had  gathered  before  the  King's  resi- 
dence, where  a  brown  curricle  had  stopped,  out  of  which 
stepped  a  hale  man  in  the  prime  of  life,  wearing  a  blue 

*   Vide  Preface. 
302 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

uniform,  gilt  epaulettes,  cocked  hat,  and  sword,  who 
crossed  the  pavement  and  went  in.  Bob  went  up  and 
joined  the  group.  '  What's  going  on  ?  '  he  said. 

'  Captain  Hardy,'  replied  a  bystander. 

'  What  of  him  ? ' 

1  Just  gone  in — waiting  to  see  the  King.' 

'  But  the  captain  is  in  the  West  Indies  ?  ' 

'  No.  The  fleet  is  come  home ;  they  can't  find  the 
French  anywhere.' 

'  Will  they  go  and  look  for  them  again  ? '  asked  Bob. 

'  O  yes.  Nelson  is  determined  to  find  'em.  As 
soon  as  he's  refitted  he'll  put  to  sea  again.  Ah,  here's 
the  King  coming  in.' 

Bob  was  so  interested  in  what  he  had  just  heard  that 
he  scarcely  noticed  the  arrival  of  the  King,  and  a  body 
of  attendant  gentlemen.  He  went  on  thinking  of  his 
new  knowledge;  Captain  Hardy  was  come.  He  was 
doubtless  staying  with  his  family  at  their  small  manor- 
house  at  Pos'ham,  a  few  miles  from  Overcombe,  where  he 
usually  spent  the  intervals  between  his  different  cruises. 

Loveday  returned  to  the  mill  without  further  delay; 
and  shortly  explaining  that  John  was  very  well,  and 
would  come  soon,  went  on  to  talk  of  the  arrival  of 
Nelson's  captain. 

'  And  is  he  come  at  last  ? '  said  the  miller,  throwing 
his  thoughts  years  backward.  '  Well  can  I  mind  when 
he  first  left  home  to  go  on  board  the  Helena  as 
midshipman ! ' 

'  That's  not  much  to  remember.  I  can  remember  it 
too,'  said  Mrs.  Loveday. 

*  'Tis  more  than  twenty  years  ago  anyhow.  And  more 
than  that,  I  can  mind  when  he  was  born ;  I  was  a  lad, 
serving  my  'prenticeship  at  the  time.  He  has  been  in 
this  house  often  and  often  when  'a  was  young.  When 
he  came  home  after  his  first  voyage  he  stayed  about  here 
a  long  time,  and  used  to  look  in  at  the  mill  whenever 
he  went  past.  "  What  will  you  be  next,  sir  ?  "  said  mother 
303 


THE  TRUMPET  MAJOR 

to  him  one  day  as  he  stood  with  his  back  to  the  door- 
post. "  A  lieutenant,  Dame  Loveday,"  says  he.  "  And 
what  next  ?  "  says  she.  "  A  commander."  "  And  next?" 
"Next,  post-captain."  "And  then?"  "Then  it  will 
be  almost  time  to  die."  I'd  warrant  that  he'd  mind  it 
to  this  very  day  if  you  were  to  ask  him.' 

Bob  heard  all  this  with  a  manner  of  preoccupation, 
and  soon  retired  to  the  mill.  Thence  he  went  to  his 
room  by  the  back  passage,  and  taking  his  old  seafaring 
garments  from  a  dark  closet  in  the  wall  conveyed  them 
to  the  loft  at  the  top  of  the  mill,  where  he  occupied  the 
remaining  spare  moments  of  the  dayfcin  brushing  the 
mildew  from  their  folds,  and  hanging  each  article  by  the 
window  to  get  aired.  In  the  evening  he  returned  to  the 
loft,  and  dressing  himself  in  the  old  salt  suit,  went  out 
of  the  house  unobserved  by  anybody,  and  ascended  the 
road  towards  Captain  Hardy's  native  village  and  present 
temporary  home. 

The  shadeless  downs  were  now  brown  with  the 
droughts  of  the  passing  summer,  and  few  living  things 
met  his  view,  the  natural  rotundity  of  the  elevation  being 
only  occasionally  disturbed  by  the  presence  of  a  barrow, 
a  thorn-bush,  or  a  piece  of  dry  wall  which  remained  from 
some  attempted  enclosure.  By  the  time  that  he  reached 
the  village  it  was  dark,  and  the  larger  stars  had  begun 
to  shine  when  he  walked  up  to  the  door  of  the  old- 
fashioned  house  which  was  the  family  residence  of  the 
Hardys. 

'  Will  the  captain  allow  me  to  wait  on  him  to-night  ? ' 
inquired  Loveday,  explaining  who  and  what  he  was. 

The  servant  went  away  for  a  few  minutes,  and  then 
told  Bob  that  he  might  see  the  captain  in  the  morning. 

« If  that's  the  case,  I'll  come  again,'  replied  Bob, 
quite  cheerful  that  failure  was  not  absolute. 

He  had  left  the  door  but  a  few  steps  when  he  was 
called  back  and  asked  if  he  had  walked  all  the  way  from 
Overcombe  Mill  on  purpose. 
304 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

Loveday  replied  modestly  that  he  had  done  so. 

«  Then  will  you  come  in  ?  '  He  followed  the  speaker 
into  a  small  study  or  office,  and  in  a  minute  or  two 
Captain  Hardy  entered. 

The  captain  at  this  time  was  a  bachelor  of  thirty- 
five,  rather  stout  in  build,  with  light  eyes,  bushy  eye- 
brows, a  square  broad  face,  plenty  of  chin,  and  a  mouth 
whose  corners  played  between  humour  and  grimness. 
He  surveyed  Loveday  from  top  to  toe. 

'Robert  Loveday,  sir,  son  of  the  miller  at  Over- 
combe,'  said  Bob,  making  a  low  bow. 

'  Ah  !  I  remember  your  father,  Loveday,'  the  gallant 
seaman  replied.  '  Well,  what  do  you  want  to  say  to 
me  ? '  Seeing  that  Bob  found  it  rather  difficult  to 
begin,  he  leant  leisurely  against  the  mantelpiece,  and 
went  on,  '  Is  your  father  well  and  hearty  ?  I  have  not 
seen  him  for  many,  many  years.' 

1  Quite  well,  thank  'ee.' 

'  You  used  to  have  a  brother  in  the  army,  I  think  ? 
What  was  his  name — John?  A  very  fine  fellow,  if  I 
recollect.' 

*  Yes,  cap'n  ;  he's  there  still.' 

*  And  you  are  in  the  merchant-service  ?  ' 
'  Late  first  mate  of  the  brig  Pewit.1 

1  How  is  it  you're  not  on  board  a  man-of-war  ? 

1  Ay,  sir,  that's  the  thing  I've  come  about,'  said  Bob, 
recovering  confidence.  *  I  should  have  been,  but  'tis 
womankind  has  hampered  me.  I've  waited  and  waited 
on  at  home  because  of  a  young  woman — lady,  I  might 
have  said,  for  she's  sprung  from  a  higher  class  of  society 
than  I.  Her  father  was  a  landscape  painter — maybe 
you've  heard  of  him,  sir  ?  The  name  is  Garland.' 

'  He  painted  that  view  of  our  village  here,'  said 
Captain  Hardy,  looking  towards  a  dark  little  picture  in 
the  corner  of  the  room. 

Bob  looked,  and  went  on,  as  if  to  the  picture,  '  Well, 
sir,  I  have  found  that —  However,  the  press-gang 
305  u 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

came  a  week  or  two  ago,  and  didn't  get  hold  of  me. 
I  didn't  care  to  go  aboard  as  a  pressed  man.' 

1  There  has  been  a  severe  impressment.  It  is  of 
course  a  disagreeable  necessity,  but  it  can't  be  helped.' 

'  Since  then,  sir,  something  has  happened  that  makes 
me  wish  they  had  found  me,  and  I  have  come  to-night 
to  ask  if  I  could  enter  on  board  your  ship  the  Victory.1 

The  captain  shook  his  head  severely,  and  presently 
observed  :  '  I  am  glad  to  find  that  you  think  of  entering 
the  service,  Loveday ;  smart  men  are  badly  wanted.  But 
it  will  not  be  in  your  power  to  choose  your  ship.' 

'Well,  well,  sir;  then  I  must  take  my  chance  else- 
where,' said  Bob,  his  face  indicating  the  disappointment 
he  would  not  fully  express.  '  'Twas  only  that  I  felt  I 
would  much  rather  serve  under  you  than  anybody  else, 
my  father  and  all  of  us  being  known  to  ye,  Captain 
Hardy,  and  our  families  belonging  to  the  same  parts.' 

Captain  Hardy  took  Bob's  altitude  more  carefully. 
'  Are  you  a  good  practical  seaman  ? '  he  asked  musingly. 

'  Ay,  sir ;  I  believe  I  am.' 

'  Active  ?     Fond  of  skylarking  ?  ' 

1  Well,  I  don't  know  about  the  last.  I  think  I  can 
say  I  am  active  enough.  I  could  walk  the  yard-arm,  if 
required,  cross  from  mast  to  mast  by  the  stays,  and  do 
what  most  fellows  do  who  call  themselves  spry.' 

The  captain  then  put  some  questions  about  the 
details  of  navigation,  which  Loveday,  having  luckily 
been  used  to  square  rigs,  answered  satisfactorily.  '  As 
to  reefing  topsails,'  he  added,  'if  I  don't  do  it  like  a 
flash  of  lightning,  I  can  do  it  so  that  they  will  stand 
blowing  weather.  The  Pewit  was  not  a  dull  vessel,  and 
when  we  were  convoyed  home  from  Lisbon,  she  could 
keep  well  in  sight  of  the  frigate  scudding  at  a  distance, 
by  putting  on  full  sail.  We  had  enough  hands  aboard 
to  reef  topsails  man-o'-war  fashion,  which  is  a  rare  thing 
in  these  days,  sir,  now  that  able  seamen  are  so  scarce 
on  trading  craft.  And  I  hear  that  men  from  square- 
306 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

rigged  vessels  are  liked  much  the  best  in  the  navy,  as 
being  more  ready  for  use?  So  that  I  shouldn't  be 
altogether  so  raw,'  said  Bob  earnestly,  « if  I  could  enter 
on  your  ship,  sir.  Still,  if  I  can't,  I  can't.' 

'  I  might  ask  for  you,  Loveday,'  said  the  captain 
thoughtfully,  '  and  so  get  you  there  that  way.  In  short, 
I  think  I  may  say  I  will  ask  for  you.  So  consider  it 
settled.' 

{  My  thanks  to  you,  sir,'  said  Loveday. 

'  You  are  aware  that  the  Victory  is  a  smart  ship,  and 
that  cleanliness  and  order  are,  of  necessity,  more  strictly 
insisted  upon  there  than  in  some  others  ? ' 

1  Sir,  I  quite  see  it.' 

'Well,  I  hope  you  will  do  your  duty  as  well  on  a 
line-of-battle  ship  as  you  did  when  mate  of  the  brig,  for 
it  is  a  duty  that  may  be  serious.' 

Bob  replied  that  it  should  be  his  one  endeavour ;  and 
receiving  a  few  instructions  for  getting  on  board  the 
guard-ship,  and  being  conveyed  to  Portsmouth,  he 
turned  to  go  away. 

'  You'll  have  a  stiff  walk  before  you  fetch  Overcombe 
Mill  this  dark  night,  Loveday,'  concluded  the  captain, 
peering  out  of  the  window.  '  I'll  send  you  in  a  glass  of 
grog  to  help  'ee  on  your  way.' 

The  captain  then  left  Bob  to  himself,  and  when  he 
had  drunk  the  grog  that  was  brought  in  he  started 
homeward,  with  a  heart  not  exactly  light,  but  large  with 
a  patriotic  cheerfulness,  which  had  not  diminished  when, 
after  walking  so  fast  in  his  excitement  as  to  be  beaded 
with  perspiration,  he  entered  his  father's  door. 

They  were  all  sitting  up  for  him,  and  at  his  approach 
anxiously  raised  their  sleepy  eyes,  for  it  was  nearly  eleven 
o'clock. 

'  There ;  I  knew  he'd  not  be  much  longer ! '  cried 
Anne,  jumping  up  and  laughing,  in  her  relief.     '  They 
have  been  thinking  you  were  very  strange  and  silent  to- 
day, Bob ;  you  were  not,  were  you  ?  ' 
3°7 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

<  What's  the  matter,  Bob  ?  '  said  the  miller  ;  for  Bob's 
countenance  was  sublimed  by  his  recent  interview,  like 
that  of  a  priest  just  come   from  the  penetralia  of  the 
temple. 

*  He's  in  his  mate's  clothes,  just  as  when  he  came 
home  ! '  observed  Mrs.  Loveday. 

They  all  saw  now  that  he  had  something  to  tell.  '  I 
am  going  away,'  he  said  when  he  had  sat  down.  '  I  am 
going  to  enter  on  board  a  man-of-war,  and  perhaps  it 
will  be  the  Victory: 

f  Going  ? '  said  Anne  faintly. 

'  Now,  don't  you  mind  it,  there's  a  dear,'  he  went  on 
solemnly,  taking  her  hand  in  his  own.  '  And  you,  father, 
don't  you  begin  to  take  it  to  heart'  (the  miller  was 
looking  grave).  'The  press-gang  has  been  here,  and 
though  I  showed  them  that  I  was  a  free  man,  I  am 
going  to  show  everybody  that  I  can  do  my  duty.' 

Neither  of  the  other  three  answered,  Anne  and  the 
miller  having  their  eyes  bent  upon  the  ground,  and  the 
former  trying  to  repress  her  tears. 

*  Now  don't  you  grieve,  either  of  you,'  he  continued ; 
4  nor  vex  yourselves  that  this  has  happened.     Please  not 
to  be  angry  with  me,  father,  for  deserting  you  and  the 
mill,  where  you  want  me,  for   I  must  go.     For  these 
three  years  we  and  the  rest  of  the  country  have  been  in 
fear  of  the  enemy ;  trade  has  been  hindered ;  poor  folk 
made  hungry ;  and  many  rich  folk  made  poor.     There 
must  be  a  deliverance,  and  it  must  be  done  by  sea.     I 
have  seen  Captain  Hardy,  and  I  shall  serve  under  him 
if  so  be  I  can.' 

<  Captain  Hardy  ?  ' 

'  Yes.  I  have  been  to  his  house  at  Pos'ham,  where 
he's  staying  with  his  sisters ;  walked  there  and  back,  and 
I  wouldn't  have  missed  it  for  fifty  guineas.  I  hardly 
thought  he  would  see  me ;  but  he  did  see  me.  And 
he  hasn't  forgot  you.' 

Bob  then  opened  his  tale  in  order,  relating  graphic- 
308 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

ally  the  conversation  to  which  he  had  been  a  party,  and 
they  listened  with  breathless  attention. 

'Well,  if  you  must  go,  you  must,'  said  the  miller  with 
emotion ;  <  but  I  think  it  somewhat  hard  that,  of  my  two 
sons,  neither  one  of  'em  can  be  got  to  stay  and  help  me 
in  my  business  as  I  get  old.' 

'  Don't  trouble  and  vex  about  it,'  said  Mrs.  Loveday 
soothingly.  « They  are  both  instruments  in  the  hands 
of  Providence,  chosen  to  chastise  that  Corsican  ogre,  and 
do  what  they  can  for  the  country  in  these  trying  years.' 

1  That's  just  the  shape  of  it,  Mrs.  Loveday,'  said 
Bob. 

f  And  he'll  come  back  soon,'  she  continued,  turning 
to  Anne.  <  And  then  he'll  tell  us  all  he  has  seen,  and 
the  glory  that  he's  won,  and  how  he  has  helped  to  sweep 
that  scourge  Buonaparty  off  the  earth.' 

'  When  be  you  going,  Bob  ?  '  his  father  inquired. 

1  To-morrow,  if  I  can.  I  shall  call  at  the  barracks 
and  tell  John  as  I  go  by.  When  I  get  to  Portsmouth — ' 

A  burst  of  sobs  in  quick  succession  interrupted  his 
words ;  they  came  from  Anne,  who  till  that  moment  had 
been  sitting  as  before  with  her  hand  in  that  of  Bob,  and 
apparently  quite  calm.  Mrs.  Loveday  jumped  up,  but 
before  she  could  say  anything  to  soothe  the  agitated 
girl  she  had  calmed  herself  with  the  same  singular 
suddenness  that  had  marked  her  giving  way.  '  I  don't 
mind  Bob's  going,'  she  said.  '  I  think  he  ought  to  go. 
Don't  suppose,  Bob,  that  I  want  you  to  stay ! ' 

After  this  she  left  the  apartment,  and  went  into  the 
little  side  room  where  she  and  her  mother  usually 
worked.  In  a  few  moments  Bob  followed  her.  When 
he  came  back  he  was  in  a  very  sad  and  emotional  mood. 
Anybody  could  see  that  there  had  been  a  parting  of 
profound  anguish  to  both. 

*  She  is  not  coming  back  to-night,'  he  said. 

1  You  will  see  her  to-morrow  before  you  go  ? '  said 
her  mother. 

309 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

*  I  may  or  I  may  not,'  he  replied.  '  Father  and  Mrs. 
Loveday,  do  you  go  to  bed  now.  I  have  got  to  look 
over  my  things  and  get  ready ;  and  it  will  take  me  some 
little  time.  If  you  should  hear  noises  you  will  know  it 
is  only  myself  moving  about.' 

When  Bob  was  left  alone  he  suddenly  became  brisk, 
and  set  himself  to  overhaul  his  clothes  and  other  posses- 
sions in  a  business-like  manner.  By  the  time  that  his 
chest  was  packed,  such  things  as  he  meant  to  leave  at 
home  folded  into  Cupboards,  and  what  was  useless  de- 
stroyed, it  was  past  two  o'clock,  Then  he  went  to  bed, 
so  softly  that  only  the  creak  of  one  weak  stair  revealed 
his  passage  upward.  At  the  moment  that  he  passed 
Anne's  chamber-doOr  her  toother  was  bending  over  her 
as  she  lay  in  bed,  and  saying  to  her,  '  Won't  you  see 
him  in  the  morning  ?  ' 

'  No,  no/  said  Anne.  *  I  would  rather  not  see  him ! 
I  have  said  that  I  may.  But  I  shall  not.  I  cannot  see 
him  again ! ' 

When  the  family  got  up  next  day  Bob  had  vanished. 
It  Was  his  way  to  disappear  like  this,  to  avoid  affecting 
scenes  at  parting.  By  the  time  that  they  had  sat  down 
to  a  gloomy  breakfast,  Bob  was  in  the  boat  of  a  Bud- 
mouth  waterman,  who  pulled  him  alongside  the  guard- 
ship  in  the  roads,  where  he  laid  hold  of  the  man-rope, 
mounted,  and  disappeared  from  external  view.  In  the 
course  of  the  day  the  ship  moved  off,  set  her  royals,  and 
made  sail  for  Portsmouth,  with  five  hundred  new  hands 
for  the  service  on  board,  consisting  partly  of  pressed 
men  and  partly  of  volunteers,  among  the  latter  being 
Robert  Loveday. 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 


A  SPECK 

ON  THE  SEA 


XXXIV 

IN  parting  from  John,  who  accompanied  him  tc  the 
quay,  Bob  had  said :  '  Now,  Jack,  these  be  my  last 
words  to  you :  I  give  her  up.  I  go  away  on  purpose, 
and  I  shall  be  away  a  long  time.  If  in  that  time  she 
should  list  over  towards  ye  ever  so  little,  mind  you  take 
her.  You  have  more  right  to  her  than  I.  You  chose 
her  when  my  mind  was  elsewhere,  and  you  best  deserve 
her;  for  I  have  never  known  you  forget  one  woman, 
while  I've  forgot  a  dozen.  Take  her  then,  if  she  will 
come,  and  God  bless  both  of  ye.' 

Another  person  besides  John  saw  Bob  go.  That  was 
Derriman,  who  was  standing  by  a  bollard  a  little  further 
up  the  quay.  He  did  not  repress  his  satisfaction  at  the 
sight.  John  looked  towards  him  with  an  open  gaze  of 
contempt ;  for  the  cuffs  administered  to  the  yeoman  at 
the  inn  had  not,  so  far  as  the  trumpet-major  was  aware, 
produced  any  desire  to  avenge  that  insult,  John  being,  of 
course,  quite  ignorant  that  Festus  had  erroneously  retali- 
ated upon  Bob,  in  his  peculiar  though  scarcely  soldierly 
way.  Finding  that  he  did  not  even  now  approach  him, 
John  went  on  his  way,  and  thought  over  his  intention  of 
preserving  intact  the  love  between  Anne  and  his  brother. 


THE   TRUMPET-MAJOR 

He  was  surprised  when  he  next  went  to  the  mill  to 
find  how  glad  they  all  were  to  see  him.  From  the 
moment  of  Bob's  return  to  the  bosom  of  the  deep  Anne 
had  had  no  existence  on  land ;  people  might  have  looked 
at  her  human  body  and  said  she  had  flitted  thence.  The 
sea  and  all  that  belonged  to  the  sea  was  her  daily  thought 
and  her  nightly  dream.  She  had  the  whole  two-and- 
thirty  winds  under  her  eye,  each  passing  gale  that 
ushered  in  returning  autumn  being  mentally  registered ; 
and  she  acquired  a  precise  knowledge  of  the  direction 
in  which  Portsmouth,  Brest,  Ferrol,  Cadiz,  and  other 
such  likely  places  lay.  Instead  of  saying  her  own 
familiar  prayers  at  night  she  substituted,  with  some  con- 
fusion of  thought,  the  Forms  of  Prayer  to  be  used  at 
sea.  John  at  once  noticed  her  lorn,  abstracted  looks, 
pitied  her, — how  much  he  pitied  her  ! — and  asked  when 
they  were  alone  if  there  was  anything  he  could  do. 

1  There  are  two  things,'  she  said,  with  almost  childish 
eagerness  in  her  tired  eyes. 

'  They  shall  be  done.' 

1  The  first  is  to  find  out  if  Captain  Hardy  has  gone 
back  to  his  ship ;  and  the  other  is — O  if  you  will  do  it, 
John ! — to  get  me  newspapers  whenever  possible.' 

After  this  duologue  John  was  absent  for  a  space  of 
three  hours,  and  they  thought  he  had  gone  back  to 
barracks.  He  entered,  however,  at  the  end  of  that  time, 
took  off  his  forage-cap,  and  wiped  his  forehead. 

« You  look  tired,  John,'  said  his  father. 

'  O  no.'  He  went  through  the  house  till  he  had 
found  Anne  Garland. 

'  I  have  only  done  one  of  those  things,'  he  said 
to  her. 

1  What,  already  ?  I  didn't  hope  for  or  mean 
to-day.' 

'  Captain  Hardy  is  gone  from  Pos'ham.  He  left 
some  days  ago.  We  shall  soon  hear  that  the  fleet  has 
sailed.' 

312 


THE   TRUMPET-MAJOR 

'  You  have  been  all  the  way  to  Pos'ham  on  purpose  ? 
How  good  of  you  !  ' 

1  Well,  I  was  anxious  to  know  myself  when  Bob  is 
likely  to  leave.  I  expect  now  that  we  shall  soon  hear 
from  him.' 

Two  days  later  he  came  again.  He  brought  a 
newspaper,  and  what  was  better,  a  letter  for  Anne, 
franked  by  the  first  lieutenant  of  the  Victory. 

1  Then  he's  aboard  her,'  said  Anne,  as  she  eagerly 
took  the  letter. 

It  was  short,  but  as  much  as  she  could  expect  in  the 
circumstances,  and  informed  them  that  the  captain  had 
been  as  good  as  his  word,  and  had  gratified  Bob's 
earnest  wish  to  serve  under  him.  The  ship,  with 
Admiral  Lord  Nelson  on  board,  and  accompanied  by 
the  frigate  Euryalus^  was  to  sail  in  two  days  for  Ply- 
mouth, where  they  would  be  joined  by  others,  and 
thence  proceed  to  the  coast  of  Spain. 

Anne  lay  awake  that  night  thinking  of  the  Victory, 
and  of  those  who  floated  in  her.  To  the  best  of  Anne's 
calculation  that  ship  of  war  would,  during  the  next 
twenty-four  hours,  pass  within  a  few  miles  of  where  she 
herself  then  lay.  Next  to  seeing  Bob,  the  thing  that 
would  give  her  more  pleasure  than  any  other  in  the 
world  was  to  see  the  vessel  that  contained  him — his 
floating  city,  his  sole  dependence  in  battle  and  storm 
— upon  whose  safety  from  winds  and  enemies  hung  all 
her  hope. 

The  morrow  was  market-day  at  the  seaport,  and  in 
this  she  saw  her  opportunity.  A  carrier  went  from 
Overcombe  at  six  o'clock  thither,  and  having  to  do  a 
little  shopping  for  herself  she  gave  it  as  a  reason  for  her 
intended  day's  absence,  and  took  a  place  in  the  van. 
When  she  reached  the  town  it  was  still  early  morning,  but 
the  borough  was  already  in  the  zenith  of  its  daily  bustle 
and  show.  The  King  was  always  out-of-doors  by  six 
o'clock,  and  such  cock-crow  hours  at  Gloucester  Lodge 
3*3 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

produced  an  equally  forward  stir  among  the  population. 
She  alighted,  and  passed  down  the  esplanade,  as  fully 
thronged  by  persons  of  fashion  at  this  time  of  mist  and 
level  sunlight  as  a  watering-place  in  the  present  day  is 
at  four  in  the  afternoon.  Dashing  bucks  and  beaux  in 
cocked  hats,  black  feathers,  ruffles,  and  frills,  stared  at 
her  as  she  hurried  along  ;  the  beach  was  swarming  with 
bathing  women,  wearing  waistbands  that  bore  the 
national  refrain,  '  God  save  the  King,'  in  gilt  letters ; 
the  shops  were  all  open,  and  Sergeant  Stanner,  with 
his  sword-stuck  bank-notes  and  heroic  gaze,  was  beating 
up  at  two  guineas  and  a  crown,  the  crown  to  drink  his 
Majesty's  health. 

She  soon  finished  her  shopping,  and  then,  crossing 
over  into  the  old  town,  pursued  her  way  along  the 
coast-road  to  Portland.  At  the  end  of  an  hour  she  had 
been  rowed  across  the  Fleet  (which  then  lacked  the  con- 
venience of  a  bridge),  and  reached  the  base  of  Portland 
Hill.  The  steep  incline  before  her  was  dotted  with 
houses,  showing  the  pleasant  peculiarity  of  one  man's 
doorstep  being  behind  his  neighbour's  chimney,  and 
slabs  of  stone  as  the  common  material  for  walls,  roof, 
floor,  pig-sty,  stable-manger,  door-scraper,  and  garden- 
stile.  Anne  gained  the  summit,  and  followed  along  the 
central  track  over  the  huge  lump  of  freestone  which 
forms  the  peninsula,  the  wide  sea  prospect  extending  as 
she  went  on.  Weary  with  her  journey,  she  approached 
the  extreme  southerly  peak  of  rock,  and  gazed  from  the 
cliff  at  Portland  Bill,  or  Beal,  as  it  was  in  those  days 
more  correctly  called. 

The  wild,  herbless,  weather-worn  promontory  was 
quite  a  solitude,  and,  saving  the  one  old  lighthouse 
about  fifty  yards  up  the  slope,  scarce  a  mark  was  visible 
to  show  that  humanity  had  ever  been  near  the  spot. 
Anne  found  herself  a  seat  on  a  stone,  and  swept  with 
her  eyes  the  tremulous  expanse  of  water  around  her  that 
seemed  to  utter  a  ceaseless  unintelligible  incantation. 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

Out  of  the  three  hundred  and  sixty  degrees  of  her  com- 
plete horizon  two  hundred  and  fifty  were  covered  by 
waves,  the  coup  (fail  including  the  area  of  troubled 
waters  known  as  the  Race,  where  two  seas  met  to  effect 
the  destruction  of  such  vessels  as  could  not  be  mastered 
by  one.  She  counted  the  craft  within  her  view :  there 
were  five;  no,  there  were  only  four;  no,  there  were 
seven,  some  of  the  specks  having  resolved  themselves 
into  two.  They  were  all  small  coasters,  and  kept  well 
within  sight  of  land. 

Anne  sank  into  a  reverie.  Then  she  heard  a  slight 
noise  on  her  left  hand,  and  turning  beheld  an  old  sailor, 
who  had  approached  with  a  glass.  He  was  levelling  it 
over  the  sea  in  a  direction  to  the  south-east,  and  some- 
what removed  from  that  in  which  her  own  eyes  had  been 
wandering.  Anne  moved  a  few  steps  thitherward,  so  as 
to  unclose  to  her  view  a  deeper  sweep  on  that  side,  and 
by  this  discovered  a  ship  of  far  larger  size  than  any 
which  had  yet  dotted  the  main  before  her,  Its  sails 
were  for  the  most  part  new  and  clean,  and  in  comparison 
with  its  rapid  progress  before  the  wind  the  small  brigs 
and  ketches  seemed  standing  still.  Upon  this  striking 
object  the  old  man's  glass  was  bent. 

1  What  do  you  see,  sailor  ? '  she  asked. 

'  Almost  nothing/  he  answered*  « My  sight  is  so 
gone  off  lately  that  things,  one  and  all,  be  but  a  Novem- 
ber mist  to  me.  And  yet  I  fain  would  see  to-day.  I 
am  looking  for  the  Victory.1 

<  Why  ? '  she  said  quickly. 

'  I  have  a  son  aboard  her.  He's  one  of  three  from 
these  parts.  There's  the  captain,  there's  my  son  Ned, 
and  there's  young  Loveday  of  Overcombe — he  that  lately 
joined.' 

'  Shall  I  look  for  you  ? '  said  Anne;  after  a  pause. 

'  Certainly,  mis'ess,  if  so  be  you  please.' 

Anne  took  the  glass,  and  he  supported  it  by  his 
arm.  «  It  is  a  large  ship,'  she  said,  '  with  three  masts, 
3*5 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

three  rows   of  guns  along  the  side,  and  all  her  sails 
set.' 

*  I  guessed  as  much.' 

'  There  is  a  little  flag  in  front — over  her  bowsprit.' 

<  The  jack.' 

'  And  there's  a  large  one  flying  at  her  stern.' 

'  The  ensign.' 

'  And  a  white  one  on  her  fore-topmast.' 

'That's  the  admiral's  flag,  the  flag  of  my  Lord 
Nelson.  What  is  her  figure-head,  my  dear  ? ' 

«  A  coat-of-arms,  supported  on  this  side  by  a  sailor.' 

Her  companion  nodded  with  satisfaction.  *  On  the 
other  side  of  that  figure-head  is  a  marine.' 

'  She  is  twisting  round  in  a  curious  way,  and  her  sails 
sink  in  like  old  cheeks,  and  she  shivers  like  a  leaf  upon 
a  tree.' 

*  She  is  in  stays,  for  the  larboard  tack.     I  can  see 
what  she's  been  doing.     She's  been  re'ching  close  in  to 
avoid  the  flood  tide,  as  the  wind  is  to  the  sou'-west,  and 
she's  bound  down ;  but  as  soon  as  the  ebb  made,  d'ye 
see,   they  made  sail  to  the  west'ard.     Captain  Hardy 
may   be    depended    upon   for    that;     he   knows    every 
current  about  here,  being  a  native.' 

'  And  now  I  can  see  the  other  side ;  it  is  a  soldier 
where  a  sailor  was  before.  You  are  sure  it  is  the 
Victory  ? ' 

1  I  am  sure.' 

After  this  a  frigate  came  into  view — the  Euryalus — 
sailing  in  the  same  direction.  Anne  sat  down,  and  her 
eyes  never  left  the  ships.  'Tell  me  more  about  the 
Victory  J  she  said. 

*  She  is  the  best  sailer  in  the  service,  and  she  carries 
a  hundred  guns.     The  heaviest  be  on  the  lower  deck, 
the  next  size  on  the  middle  deck,  the  next  on  the  main 
and  upper  decks.     My  son  Ned's  place  is  on  the  lower 
deck,  because  he's  short,  and  they  put  the  short  men 
below.' 

316 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

Bob,  though  not  tall,  was  not  likely  to  be  specially 
selected  for  shortness.  She  pictured  him  on  the  upper 
deck,  in  his  snow-white  trousers  and  jacket  of  navy  blue, 
looking  perhaps  towards  the  very  point  of  land  where 
she  then  was. 

The  great  silent  ship,  with  her  population  of  blue- 
jackets, marines,  officers,  captain,  and  the  admiral  who 
was  not  to  return  alive,  passed  like  a  phantom  the 
meridian  of  the  Bill.  Sometimes  her  aspect  was  that  of 
a  large  white  bat,  sometimes  that  of  a  grey  one.  In 
the  course  of  time  the  watching  girl  saw  that  the  ship 
had  passed  her  nearest  point ;  the  breadth  of  her  sails 
diminished  by  foreshortening,  till  she  assumed  the  form 
of  an  egg  on  end.  After  this  something  seemed  to 
twinkle,  and  Anne,  who  had  previously  withdrawn  from 
the  old  sailor,  went  back  to  him,  and  looked  again 
through  the  glass.  The  twinkling  was  the  light  falling 
upon  the  cabin  windows  of  the  ship's  stern.  She  ex- 
plained it  to  the  old  man. 

'Then  we  see  now  what  the  enemy  have  seen  but 
once.  That  was  in  seventy-nine,  when  she  sighted  the 
French  and  Spanish  fleet  off  Scilly,  and  she  retreated 
because  she  feared  a  landing.  Well,  'tis  a  brave  ship, 
and  she  carries  brave  men ! ' 

Anne's  tender  bosom  heaved,  but  she  said  nothing, 
and  again  became  absorbed  in  contemplation. 

The  Victory  was  fast  dropping  away.  She  was  on 
the  horizon,  and  soon  appeared  hull  down.  That 
seemed  to  be  like  the  beginning  of  a  greater  end  than 
her  present  vanishing.  Anne  Garland  could  not  stay  by 
the  sailor  any  longer,  and  went  about  a  stone's-throw  off, 
where  she  was  hidden  by  the  inequality  of  the  cliff  from 
his  view.  The  vessel  was  now  exactly  end  on,  and 
stood  out  in  the  direction  of  the  Start,  her  width  having 
contracted  to  the  proportion  of  a  feather.  She  sat 
down  again,  and  mechanically  took  out  some  biscuits 
that  she  had  brought,  foreseeing  that  her  waiting  might 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

be  long.  But  she  could  not  eat  one  of  them ;  eating 
seemed  to  jar  with  the  mental  tenseness  of  the  moment ; 
and  her  undeviating  gaze  continued  to  follow  the 
lessened  ship  with  the  fidelity  of  a  balanced  needle  to  a 
magnetic  stone,  all  else  in  her  being  motionless. 

The  courses  of  the  Victory  were  absorbed  into  the 
main,  then  her  topsails  went,  and  then  her  top-gal- 
lants. She  was  now  no  more  than  a  dead  fly's  wing 
on  a  sheet  of  spider's  web;  and  even  this  fragment 
diminished.  Anne  could  hardly  bear  to  see  the  end, 
and  yet  she  resolved  not  to  flinch.  The  admiral's  flag 
sank  behind  the  watery  line,  and  in  a  minute  the  very 
truck  of  the  last  topmast  stole  away.  The  Victory  was 
gone. 

Anne's  lip  quivered  as  she  murmured,  without  remov- 
ing her  wet  eyes  from  the  vacant  and  solemn  horizon, 
'  ",They  that  go  down  to  the  sea  in  ships,  that  do  business 
in  great  waters "  ' 

*  "  These  see  the  works  of  the  Lord,  and  His  wonders 
in  the  deep," '  was  returned   by  a  man's  voice  from 
behind  her. 

Looking  round  quickly,  she  saw  a  soldier  standing 
there;  and  the  grave  eyes  of  John  Loveday  bent  on 
her. 

"Tis  what  I  was  thinking,'  she  said,  trying  to  be 
composed. 

'  You  were  saying  it,'  he  answered  gently. 

*  Was  I  ? — I  did  not  know  it.  ...  How  came  you 
here  ?  '  she  presently  added. 

*  I   have "  been  behind  you  a  good  while ;  but  you 
never  turned  round.' 

'  I  was  deeply  occupied,'  she  said  in  an  undertone. 

'Yes — I  too  came  to  see  him  pass.  I  heard  this 
morning  that  Lord  Nelson  had  embarked,  and  I  knew 
at  once  that  they  would  sail  immediately.  The  Victory 
and  Euryalus  are  to  join  the  rest  of  the  fleet  at  Ply- 
mouth. There  was  a  great  crowd  of  people  assembled 


THE   TRUMPET-MAJOR 

to  see  the  admiral  off;  they  cheered  him  and  the  ship  as 
she  dropped  down.  He  took  his  coffin  on  board  with 
him,  they  say.' 

'  His  coffin  ! '  said  Anne,  turning  deadly  pale.  « Some- 
thing terrible,  then,  is  meant  by  that !  O,  why  would 
Bob  go  in  that  ship?  doomed  to  destruction  from  the 
very  beginning  like  this  ! ' 

'  It  was  his  determination  to  sail  under  Captain 
Hardy,  and  under  no  one  else,'  said  John.  *  There 
may  be  hot  work;  but  we  must  hope  for  the  best.' 
And  observing  how  wretched  she  looked,  he  added, 
'  But  won't  you  let  me  help  you  back  ?  If  you  can 
walk  as  far  as  Hope  Cove  it  will  be  enough.  A  lerret 
is  going  from  there  across  the  bay  homeward  to  the 
harbour  in  the  course  of  an  hour ;  it  belongs  to  a 
man  I  know,  and  they  can  take  one  passenger,  I  am 
sure.' 

She  turned  her  back  upon  the  Channel,  and  by  his 
help  soon  reached  the  place  indicated.  The  boat  was 
lying  there  as  he  had  said.  She  found  it  to  belong  to 
the  old  man  who  had  been  with  her  at  the  Bill,  and  was 
in  charge  of  his  two  younger  sons.  The  trumpet-major 
helped  her  into  it  over  the  slippery  blocks  of  stone,  one 
of  the  young  men  spread  his  jacket  for  her  to  sit  on, 
and  as  soon  as  they  pulled  from  shore  John  climbed  up 
the  blue-grey  cliff,  and  disappeared  over  the  top,  to 
return  to  the  mainland  by  road. 

Anne  was  in  the  town  by  three  o'clock.  The  trip  in 
the  stern  of  the  lerret  had  quite  refreshed  her,  with  the 
help  of  the  biscuits,  which  she  had  at  last  been  able  to 
eat.  The  van  from  the  port  to  Overcombe  did  not 
start  till  four  o'clock,  and  feeling  no  further  interest  in 
the  gaieties  of  the  place,  she  strolled  on  past  the  King's 
house  to  the  outskirts,  her  mind  settling  down  again 
upon  the  possibly  sad  fate  of  the  Victory  when  she  found 
herself  alone.  She  did  not  hurry  on ;  and  finding  that 
even  now  there  wanted  another  half-hour  to  the  carrier's 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

time,  she  turned  into  a  little  lane  to  escape  the  inspec- 
tion of  the  numerous  passers-by.  Here  all  was  quite 
lonely  and  still,  and  she  sat  down  under  a  willow-tree, 
absently  regarding  the  landscape,  which  had  begun  to 
put  on  the  rich  tones  of  declining  summer,  but  which 
to  her  was  as  hollow  and  faded  as  a  theatre  by  day. 
She  could  hold  out  no  longer;  burying  her  face  in  her 
hands,  she  wept  without  restraint. 

Some  yards  behind  her  was  a  little  spring  of  water, 
having  a  stone  margin  round  it  to  prevent  the  cattle 
from  treading  in  the  sides  and  filling  it  up  with  dirt. 
While  she  wept,  two  elderly  gentlemen  entered  unper- 
ceived  upon  the  scene,  and  walked  on  to  the  spring's 
brink.  Here  they  paused  and  looked  in,  afterwards 
moving  round  it,  and  then  stooping  as  if  to  smell  or 
taste  its  waters.  The  spring  was,  in  fact,  a  sulphurous 
one,  then  recently  discovered  by  a  physician  who  lived 
in  the  neighbourhood ;  and  it  was  beginning  to  attract 
some  attention,  having  by  common  report  contributed 
to  effect  such  wonderful  cures  as  almost  passed  belief. 
After  a  considerable  discussion,  apparently  on  how  the 
pool  might  be  improved  for  better  use,  one  of  the  two 
elderly  gentlemen  turned  away,  leaving  the  other  still 
probing  the  spring  with  his  cane.  The  first  stranger, 
who  wore  a  blue  coat  with  gilt  buttons,  came  on  in  the 
direction  of  Anne  Garland,  and  seeing  her  sad  posture 
went  quickly  up  to  her,  and  said  abruptly,  « What  is  the 
matter  ? ' 

Anne,  who  in  her  grief  had  observed  nothing  of  the 
gentlemen's  presence,  withdrew  her  handkerchief  from 
her  eyes  and  started  to  her  feet.  She  instantly  recog- 
nised her  interrogator  as  the  King. 

1  What,  what,  crying  ? '  his  Majesty  inquired  kindly. 
'  How  is  this  ! ' 

'  I — have  seen  a  dear  friend  go  away,  sir,'  she  faltered, 
with  downcast  eyes. 

*  Ah  ! — partings  are  sad — very  sad — for  us  all.  You 
320 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

must  hope  your  friend  will  return  soon.  Where  is  he  or 
she  gone  ? ' 

'  I  don't  know,  your  Majesty.' 

'  Don't  know — how  is  that  ?  ' 

'  He  is  a  sailor  on  board  the  Victory? 

1  Then  he  has  reason  to  be  proud,'  said  the  King  with 
interest.  '  He  is  your  brother  ?  ' 

Anne  tried  to  explain  what  he  was,  but  could  not, 
and  blushed  with  painful  heat. 

'  Well,  well,  well ;  what  is  his  name  ?  ' 

In  spite  of  Anne's  confusion  and  low  spirits,  her 
womanly  shrewdness  told  her  at  once  that  no  harm 
could  be  done  by  revealing  Bob's  name;  and  she 
answered,  *  His  name  is  Robert  Loveday,  sir.' 

'  Loveday — a  good  name.  I  shall  not  forget  it.  Now 
dry  your  cheeks,  and  don't  cry  any  more.  Loveday — 
Robert  Loveday.' 

Anne  curtseyed,  the  King  smiled  good-humouredly, 
and  turned  to  rejoin  his  companion,  who  was  afterwards 

heard  to  be  Dr. ,  the  physician  in  attendance  at 

Gloucester  Lodge.  This  gentleman  had  in  the  mean- 
time filled  a  small  phial  with  the  medicinal  water,  which 
he  carefully  placed  in  his  pocket ;  and  on  the  King 
coming  up  they  retired  together  and  disappeared.  There- 
upon Anne,  now  thoroughly  aroused,  followed  the  same 
way  with  a  gingerly  tread,  just  in  time  to  see  them  get 
into  a  carriage  which  was  in  waiting  at  the  turning  of 
the  lane. 

She  quite  forgot  the  carrier,  and  everything  else  in 
connexion  with  riding  home.  Flying  along  the  road 
rapidly  and  unconsciously,  when  she  awoke  to  a  sense 
of  her  whereabouts  she  was  so  near  to  Overcombe  as  to 
make  the  carrier  not  worth  waiting  for.  She  had  been 
borne  up  in  this  hasty  spurt  at  the  end  of  a  weary  day 
by  visions  of  Bob  promoted  to  the  rank  of  admiral,  or 
something  equally  wonderful,  by  the  King's  special  com- 
mand, the  chief  result  of  the  promotion  being,  in  her 
321  x 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

arrangement  of  the  piece,  that  he  would  stay  at  home 
and  go  to  sea  no  more.  But  she  was  not  a  girl  who 
indulged  in  extravagant  fancies  long,  and  before  she 
reached  home  she  thought  that  the  King  had  probably 
forgotten  her  by  that  time,  and  her  troubles,  and  her 
lover's  name. 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 


A  SAILOR  ENTERS 

XXXV 

1  HE  remaining  fortnight  of  the  month  of  September 
passed  away,  with  a  general  decline  from  the  summer's 
excitements.  The  royal  family  left  the  watering-place 
the  first  week  in  October,  the  German  Legion  with  their 
artillery  about  the  same  time.  The  dragoons  still  re- 
mained at  the  barracks  just  out  of  the  town,  and  John 
Loveday  brought  to  Anne  every  newspaper  that  he  could 
lay  hands  on,  especially  such  as  contained  any  fragment 
of  shipping  news.  This  threw  them  much  together ;  and 
at  these  times  John  was  often  awkward  and  confused, 
on  account  of  the  unwonted  stress  of  concealing  his 
great  love  for  her. 

Her  interests  had  grandly  developed  from  the  limits 
of  Overcombe  and  the  town  life  hard  by,  to  an  exten- 
siveness  truly  European.  During  the  whole  month 
of  October,  however,  not  a  single  grain  of  informa- 
tion reached  her,  or  anybody  else,  concerning  Nelson 
and  his  blockading  squadron  off  Cadiz.  There  were 
the  customary  bad  jokes  about  Buonaparte,  especially 
when  it  was  found  that  the  whole  French  army  had 
turned  its  back  upon  Boulogne  and  set  out  for  the 
Rhine.  Then  came  accounts  of  his  march  through 
323 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

Germany  and  into  Austria ;  but  not  a  word  about  the 
Victory. 

At  the  beginning  of  autumn  John  brought  news 
which  fearfully  depressed  her.  The  Austrian  General 
Mack  had  capitulated  with  his  whole  army.  Then  were 
revived  the  old  misgivings  as  to  invasion.  '  Instead  of 
having  to  cope  with  him  weary  with  waiting,  we  shall 
have  to  encounter  This  Man  fresh  from  the  fields  of 
victory,'  ran  the  newspaper  article. 

But  the  week  which  had  led  off  with  such  a  dreary 
piping  was  to  end  in  another  key.  On  the  very  day 
when  Mack's  army  was  piling  arms  at  the  feet  of  its 
conqueror,  a  blow  had  been  struck  by  Bob  Loveday 
and  his  comrades  which  eternally  shattered  the  enemy's 
force  by  sea.  Four  days  after  the  receipt  of  the 
Austrian  news  Corporal  Tullidge  ran  into  the  miller's 
house  to  inform  him  that  on  the  previous  Monday,  at 
eleven  in  the  morning,  the  Pickle  schooner,  Lieutenant 
Lapenotiere,  had  arrived  at  Falmouth  with  despatches 
from  the  fleet ;  that  the  stage-coaches  on  the  highway 
through  Wessex  to  London  were  chalked  with  the  words 
'  Great  Victory  !  '  '  Glorious  Triumph  !  '  and  so  on  ; 
and  that  all  the  country  people  were  wild  to  know 
particulars. 

On  Friday  afternoon  John  arrived  with  authentic 
news  of  the  battle  off  Cape  Trafalgar,  and  the  death  of 
Nelson.  Captain  Hardy  was  alive,  though  his  escape 
had  been  narrow  enough,  his  shoe-buckle  having  been 
carried  away  by  a  shot.  It  was  feared  that  the  Victory 
had  been  the  scene  of  the  heaviest  slaughter  among  all 
the  ships  engaged,  but  as  yet  no  returns  of  killed  and 
wounded  had  been  issued,  beyond  a  rough  list  of  the 
numbers  in  some  of  the  ships. 

The  suspense  of  the  little  household  in  Overcombe 

Mill  was  great  in  the  extreme.     John  came  thither  daily 

for  more  than  a  week ;  but  no  further  particulars  reached 

England  till  the  end  of  that  time,  and  then  only  the 

324 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

meagre  intelligence  that  there  had  been  a  gale  immedi- 
ately after  the  battle,  and  that  many  of  the  prizes  had 
been  lost.  Anne  said  little  to  all  these  things,  and  pre- 
served a  superstratum  of  calmness  on  her  countenance ; 
but  some  inner  voice  seemed  to  whisper  to  her  that 
Bob  was  no  more.  Miller  Loveday  drove  to  Pos'ham 
several  times  to  learn  if  the  Captain's  sisters  had  re- 
ceived any  more  definite  tidings  than  these  flying  reports  ; 
but  that  family  had  heard  nothing  which  could  in  any 
way  relieve  the  miller's  anxiety.  When  at  last,  at  the 
end  of  November,  there  appeared  a  final  and  revised 
list  of  killed  and  wounded  as  issued  by  Admiral  Colling- 
wood,  it  was  a  useless  sheet  to  the  Lovedays.  To  their 
great  pain  it  contained  no  names  but  those  of  officers, 
the  friends  of  ordinary  seamen  and  marines  being  in 
those  good  old  days  left  to  discover  their  losses  as  best 
they  might. 

Anne's  conviction  of  her  loss  increased  with  the 
darkening  of  the  early  winter  time.  Bob  was  not  a 
cautious  man  who  would  avoid  needless  exposure,  and 
a  hundred  and  fifty  of  the  Victory's  crew  had  been  dis- 
abled or  slain.  Anybody  who  had  looked  into  her 
room  at  this  time  would  have  seen  that  her  favourite 
reading  was  the  office  for  the  Burial  of  the  Dead  at  Sea, 
beginning  '  We  therefore  commit  his  body  to  the  deep.' 
In  these  first  days  of  December  several  of  the  victorious 
fleet  came  into  port ;  but  not  the  Victory.  Many  sup- 
posed that  that  noble  ship,  disabled  by  the  battle,  had 
gone  to  the  bottom  in  the  subsequent  tempestuous 
weather ;  and  the  belief  was  persevered  in  till  it  was 
told  in  the  town  and  port  that  she  had  been  seen 
passing  up  the  Channel.  Two  days  later  the  Victory 
arrived  at  Portsmouth. 

Then  letters  from  survivors  began  to  appear  in  the 
public  prints  which  John  so  regularly  brought  to  Anne  ; 
but  though  he  watched  the  mails  with  unceasing  vigi- 
lance there  was  never  a  letter  from  Bob.  It  sometimes 
325 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

crossed  John's  mind  that  his  brother  might  still  be 
alive  and  well,  and  that  in  his  wish  to  abide  by  his 
expressed  intention  of  giving  up  Anne  and  home  life 
he  was  deliberately  lax  in  writing.  If  so,  Bob  was 
carrying  out  the  idea  too  thoughtlessly  by  half,  as  could 
be  seen  by  watching  the  effects  of  suspense  upon  the 
fair  face  of  the  victim,  and  the  anxiety  of  the  rest  of 
the  family. 

It  was  a  clear  day  in  December.  The  first  slight 
snow  of  the  season  had  been  sifted  over  the  earth,  and 
one  side  of  the  apple-tree  branches  in  the  miller's  garden 
was  touched  with  white,  though  a  few  leaves  were  still 
lingering  on  the  tops  of  the  younger  trees.  A  short 
sailor  of  the  royal  navy,  who  was  not  Bob,  nor  anything 
like  him,  crossed  the  mill  court  and  came  to  the  door. 
The  miller  hastened  out  and  brought  him  into  the  room, 
where  John,  Mrs.  Loveday,  and  Anne  Garland  were  all 
present. 

'  I'm  from  aboard  the  Victory]  said  the  sailor. 
'  My  name's  Jim  Cornick.  And  your  lad  is  alive  and 
well.' 

They  breathed  rather  than  spoke  their  thankfulness 
and  relief,  the  miller's  eyes  being  moist  as  he  turned 
aside  to  calm  himself;  while  Anne,  having  first  jumped 
up  wildly  from  her  seat,  sank  back  again  under  the 
almost  insupportable  joy  that  trembled  through  her  limbs 
to  her  utmost  finger. 

1  I've  come  from  Spithead  to  Pos'ham,'  the  sailor 
continued,  *  and  now  I  am  going  on  to  father  at  Bud- 
mouth.' 

'  Ah  ! — I  know  your  father,'  cried  the  trumpet-major, 
(  old  James  Cornick.' 

It  was  the  man  who  had  brought  Anne  in  his  lerret 
from  Portland  Bill. 

'  And  Bob  hasn't  got  a  scratch  ?  '  said  the  miller. 

1  Not  a  scratch,'  said  Cornick. 

Loveday  then  bustled  off  to  draw  the  visitor  some- 
326 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

thing  to  drink.  Anne  Garland,  with  a  glowing  blush  on 
her  face,  had  gone  to  the  back  part  of  the  room,  where 
she  was  the  very  embodiment  of  sweet  content  as  she 
slightly  swayed  herself  without  speaking.  A  little  tide 
of  happiness  seemed  to  ebb  and  flow  through  her  in 
listening  to  the  sailor's  words,  moving  her  figure  with  it. 
The  seaman  and  John  went  on  conversing. 

'  Bob  had  a  good  deal  to  do  with  barricading  the 
hawse-holes  afore  we  were  in  action,  and  the  Adm'l  and 
Cap'n  both  were  very  much  pleased  at  how  'twas  done. 
When  the  Adm'l  went  up  the  quarter-deck  ladder,  Cap'n 
Hardy  said  a  word  or  two  to  Bob,  but  what  it  was  I 
don't  know,  for  I  was  quartered  at  a  gun  some  ways  off. 
However,  Bob  saw  the  Adm'l  stagger  when  'a  was 
wownded,  and  was  one  of  the  men  who  carried  him  to 
the  cockpit.  After  that  he  and  some  other  lads  jumped 
aboard  the  French  ship,  and  I  believe  they  was  in  her 
when  she  struck  her  flag.  What  'a  did  next  I  can't  say, 
for  the  wind  had  dropped,  and  the  smoke  was  like  a 
cloud.  But  'a  got  a  good  deal  talked  about ;  and  they 
say  there's  promotion  in  store  for'n.' 

At  this  point  in  the  story  Jim  Cornick  stopped  to 
drink,  and  a  low  unconscious  humming  came  from  Anne 
in  her  distant  corner ;  the  faint  melody  continued  more 
or  less  when  the  conversation  between  the  sailor  and  the 
Lovedays  was  renewed. 

« We  heard  afore  that  the  Victory  was  near  knocked 
to  pieces,'  said  the  miller. 

*  Knocked  to  pieces  ?  You'd  say  so  if  so  be  you 
could  see  her !  Gad,  her  sides  be  battered  like  an  old 
penny  piece ;  the  shot  be  still  sticking  in  her  wales,  and 
her  sails  be  like  so  many  clap-nets :  we  have  run  all  the 
way  home  under  jury  topmasts ;  and  as  for  her  decks, 
you  may  swab  wi'  hot  water,  and  you  may  swab  wi'  cold, 
but  there's  the  blood-stains,  and  there  they'll  bide.  .  .  . 
The  Cap'n  had  a  narrow  escape,  like  many  o'  the  rest — 
a  shot  shaved  his  ankle  like  a  razor.  You  should  have 
327 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

seen  that  man's  face  in  the  het  o'  battle,  his  features 
were  as  if  they'd  been  cast  in  steel.' 

1  We  rather  expected  a  letter  from  Bob  before  this.' 

'  Well,'  said  Jim  Cornick,  with  a  smile  of  toleration, 
'you  must  make  allowances.  The  truth  o't  is,  he's 
engaged  just  now  at  Portsmouth,  like  a  good  many  of 
the  rest  from  our  ship.  .  .  .  Tis  a  very  nice  young 
woman  that  he's  a  courting  of,  and  I  make  no  doubt 
that  she'll  be  an  excellent  wife  for  him.' 

'  Ah ! '  said  Mrs.  Loveday,  in  a  warning  tone. 

'  Courting — wife  ?  '  said  the  miller. 

They  instinctively  looked  towards  Anne.  Anne  had 
started  as  if  shaken  by  an  invisible  hand,  and  a  thick 
mist  of  doubt  seemed  to  obscure  the  intelligence  of  her 
eyes.  This  was  but  for  two  or  three  moments.  Very 
pale,  she  arose  and  went  right  up  to  the  seaman.  John 
gently  tried  to  intercept  her,  but  she  passed  him  by. 

c  Do  you  speak  of  Robert  Loveday  as  courting  a 
wife  ?  '  she  asked,  without  the  least  betrayal  of  emotion. 

'I  didn't  see  you,  miss,'  replied  Cornick,  turning. 
'  Yes,  your  brother  hev'  his  eye  on  a  wife,  and  he 
deserves  one.  I  hope  you  don't  mind  ?  ' 

'  Not  in  the  least,'  she  said,  with  a  stage  laugh.  *  I 
am  interested,  naturally.  And  what  is  she  ?  ' 

*  A  very  nice  young  master-baker's  daughter,  honey. 
A  very  wise  choice  of  the  young  man's.' 

'  Is  she  fair  or  dark  ? ' 

{  Her  hair  is  rather  light.' 

{ I  like  light  hair ;  and  her  name  ?  ' 

'  Her  name  is  Caroline.  But  can  it  be  that  my 
story  hurts  ye?  If  so ' 

'  Yes,  yes,'  said  John,  interposing  anxiously.  '  We 
don't  care  for  more  just  at  this  moment.' 

'We  do  care  for  more!'  said  Anne  vehemently. 
'  Tell  it  all,  sailor.  That  is  a  very  pretty  name,  Caroline. 
When  are  they  going  to  be  married  ? ' 

'  I  don't  know  as  how  the  day  is  settled,'  answered 
328 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

Jim,  even  now  scarcely  conscious  of  the  devastation  he 
was  causing  in  one  fair  breast.  '  But  from  the  rate  the 
courting  is  scudding  along  at,  I  should  say  it  won't  be 
long  first.' 

*  If  you  see  him  when  you  go  back,  give  him  my  best 
wishes/  she  lightly  said,  as  she  moved  away.  'And,' 
she  added,  with  solemn  bitterness,  '  say  that  I  am  glad 
to  hear  he  is  making  such  good  use  of  the  first  days  of 
his  escape  from  the  Valley  of  the  Shadow  of  Death  ! ' 
She  went  away,  expressing  indifference  by  audibly  sing- 
ing in  the  distance — 

'  Shall  we  go  dance  the  round,  the  round,  the  round, 
Shall  we  go  dance  the  round  ? ' 

'Your  sister  is  lively  at  the  news,'  observed  Jim 
Cornick. 

'  Yes,'  murmured  John  gloomily,  as  he  gnawed  his 
lower  lip  and  kept  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  fire. 

'  Well,'  continued  the  man  from  the  Victory ',  ' 1 
won't  say  that  your  brother's  intended  ha'n't  got  some 
ballast,  which  is  very  lucky  for'n,  as  he  might  have  picked 
up  with  a  girl  without  a  single  copper  nail.  To  be  sure 
there  was  a  time  we  had  when  we  got  into  port !  It  was 
open  house  for  us  all ! '  And  after  mentally  regarding 
the  scene  for  a  few  seconds  Jim  emptied  his  cup  and 
rose  to  go. 

The  miller  was  saying  some  last  words  to  him  outside 
the  house,  Anne's  voice  had  hardly  ceased  singing  up- 
stairs, John  was  standing  by  the  fireplace,  and  Mrs. 
Loveday  was  crossing  the  room  to  join  her  daughter, 
whose  manner  had  given  her  some  uneasiness,  when  a 
noise  came  from  above  the  ceiling,  as  of  some  heavy  body 
falling.  Mrs.  Loveday  rushed  to  the  staircase,  saying, 
'  Ah,  I  feared  something  ! '  and  she  was  followed  by  John. 

When  they  entered  Anne's  rotfm,  which  they  both  did 
almost  at  one  moment,  they  found  her  lying  insensible 
329 


THE   TRUMPET-MAJOR 

upon  the  floor.  The  trumpet-major,  his  lips  tightly 
closed,  lifted  her  in  his  arms,  and  laid  her  upon  the 
bed ;  after  which  he  went  back  to  the  door  to  give  room 
to  her  mother,  who  was  bending  over  the  girl  with  some 
hartshorn. 

Presently  Mrs.  Loveday  looked  up  and  said  to  him, 
1  She  is  only  in  a  faint,  John,  and  her  colour  is  coming 
back.  Now  leave  her  to  me;  I  will  be  downstairs  in  a 
few  minutes,  and  tell  you  how  she  is.' 

John  left  the  room.  When  he  gained  the  lower  apart- 
ment his  father  was  standing  by  the  chimney-piece,  the 
sailor  having  gone.  The  trumpet- major  went  up  to  the 
fire,  and,  grasping  the  edge  of  the  high  chimney-shelf, 
stood  silent. 

'  Did  I  hear  a  noise  when  I  went  out  ? '  asked  the 
elder,  in  a  tone  of  misgiving. 

'  Yes,  you  did,'  said  John.  '  It  was  she,  but  her 
mother  says  she  is  better  now.  Father,'  he  added  im- 
petuously, '  Bob  is  a  worthless  blockhead  !  If  there  had 
been  any  good  in  him  he  would  have  been  drowned  years 
ago!' 

*  John,  John — not  too  fast,'  said  the  miller.  '  That's 
a  hard  thing  to  say  of  your  brother,  and  you  ought  to  be 
ashamed  of  it.' 

'Well,  he  tries  me  more  than  I  can  bear.  Good 
God !  what  can  a  man  be  made  of  to  go  on  as  he  does  ? 
Why  didn't  he  come  home ;  or  if  he  couldn't  get  leave 
why  didn't  he  write  ?  'Tis  scandalous  of  him  to  serve  a 
woman  like  that ! ' 

'  Gently,  gently.  The  chap  hev  done  his  duty  as  a 
sailor;  and  though  there  might  have  been  something 
between  him  and  Anne,  her  mother,  in  talking  it  over 
with  me,  has  said  many  times  that  she  couldn't  think  of 
their  marrying  till  Bob  had  settled  down  in  business  with 
me.  Folks  that  gain  victories  must  have  a  little  liberty 
allowed  'em.  Look  at  the  Admiral  himself,  for  that 
matter.' 

33° 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

John  continued  looking  at  the  red  coals,  till  hearing 
Mrs.  Loveday's  foot  on  the  staircase,  he  went  to  meet 
her. 

'  She  is  better,'  said  Mrs.  Loveday  j  '  but  she  won't 
come  down  again  to-day.' 

Could  John  have  heard  what  the  poor  girl  was 
moaning  to  herself  at  that  moment  as  she  lay  writhing 
on  the  bed,  he  would  have  doubted  her  mother's  assur- 
ance. '  If  he  had  been  dead  I  could  have  borne  it,  but 
this  I  cannot  bear  ! ' 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 


DERRIMAN 

SEES  CHANCES 

XXXVI 

MEANWHILE  Sailor  Cornick  had  gone  on  his  way 
as  far  as  the  forking  roads,  where  he  met  Festus 
Derriman  on  foot.  The  latter,  attracted  by  the  seaman's 
dress,  and  by  seeing  him  come  from  the  mill,  at  once 
accosted  him.  Jim,  with  the  greatest  readiness,  fell  into 
conversation,  and  told  the  same  story  as  that  he  had 
related  at  the  mill. 

'Bob    Loveday   going    to    be    married?'    repeated 
Festus. 

'  You  all  seem  struck  of  a  heap  wi'  that.' 
'  No ;  I  never  heard  news  that  pleased  me  more.' 
When  Cornick  was  gone,  Festus,  instead  of  passing 
straight  on,  halted  on  the  little  bridge  and  meditated. 
Bob,  being  now  interested   elsewhere,  would  probably 
not  resent  the  siege  of  Anne's  heart  by  another ;  there 
could,  at   any  rate,  be    no    further  possibility  of  that 
looming  duel  which  had  troubled  the  yeoman's  mind 
ever  since  his  horse-play  on  Anne  at  the  house  on  the 
down.     To  march  into  the  mill  and  propose  to  Mrs. 
Loveday  for  Anne  before  John's  interest  could  revive  in 
her  was,  to  this  hero's  thinking,  excellent  discretion. 
The   day   had   already    begun   to  darken  when  he 
332 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

entered,  and  the  cheerful  fire  shone  red  upon  the  floor 
and  walls.  Mrs.  Loveday  received  him  alone,  and  asked 
him  to  take  a  seat  by  the  chimney-corner,  a  little  of  the 
old  hankering  for  him  as  a  son-in-law  having  permanently 
remained  with  her. 

*  Your  servant,  Mrs.  Loveday,'  he  said,  { and  I  will 
tell  you  at  once  what  I  come  for.     You  will  say  that  I 
take  time  by  the  forelock  when  I  inform  you  that  it  is  to 
push  on  my  long-wished-for  alliance  wi'  your  daughter, 
as  I  believe  she  is  now  a  free  woman  again.' 

*  Thank  you,  Mr.  Derriman,'  said  the  mother  placably. 
(  But  she  is  ill  at  present.     I'll  mention  it  to  her  when 
she  is  better.' 

'  Ask  her  to  alter  her  cruel,  cruel  resolves  against  me, 
on  the  score  of — of  my  consuming  passion  for  her.  In 
short,'  continued  Festus,  dropping  his  parlour  language 
in  his  warmth,  '  I'll  tell  thee  what,  Dame  Loveday,  I 
want  the  maid,  and  must  have  her.' 

Mrs.  Loveday  replied  that  that  was  very  plain 
speaking. 

'  Well,  'tis.  But  Bob  has  given  her  up.  He  never 
meant  to  marry  her.  I'll  tell  you,  Mrs.  Loveday,  what 
I  have  never  told  a  soul  before.  I  was  standing  upon 
Budmouth  Quay  on  that  very  day  in  last  September 
that  Bob  set  sail,  and  I  heard  him  say  to  his  brother 
John  that  he  gave  your  daughter  up.' 

*  Then  it  was  very  unmannerly  of  him  to  trifle  with 
her  so,'  said  Mrs.  Loveday  warmly.     *  Who  did-  he  give 
her  up  to  ?  ' 

Festus  replied  with  hesitation,  '  He  gave  her  up  to 
John.' 

1  To  John  ?  How  could  he  give  her  up  to  a  man 
already  over  head  and  ears  in  love  with  that  actress 
woman  ? ' 

£  O  ?     You  surprise  me.     Which  actress  is  it  ?  ' 

'  That  Miss  Johnson.  Anne  tells  me  that  he  loves 
her  hopelessly.' 

333 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

Festus  arose.  Miss  Johnson  seemed  suddenly  to 
acquire  high  value  as  a  sweetheart  at  this  announcement. 
He  had  himself  felt  a  nameless  attractiveness  in  her,  and 
John  had  done  likewise.  John  crossed  his  path  in  all 
possible  ways. 

Before  the  yeoman  had  replied  somebody  opened  the 
door,  and  the  firelight  shone  upon  the  uniform  of  the 
person  they  discussed.  Festus  nodded  on  recognizing 
him,  wished  Mrs.  Loveday  good  evening,  and  went  out 
precipitately. 

'  So  Bob  told  you  he  meant  to  break  off  with  my 
Anne  when  he  went  away  ? '  Mrs.  Loveday  remarked  to 
the  trumpet-major.  '  I  wish  I  had  known  of  it  before.' 

John  appeared  disturbed  at  the  sudden  charge.  He 
murmured  that  he  could  not  deny  it,  and  then  hastily 
turned  from  her  and  followed  Derriman,  whom  he  saw 
before  him  on  the  bridge. 

'  Derriman  ! '  he  shouted. 

Festus  started  and  looked  round.  { Well,  trumpet- 
major,'  he  said  blandly. 

'  When  will  you  have  sense  enough  to  mind  your  own 
business,  and  not  come  here  telling  things  you  have 
heard  by  sneaking  behind  people's  backs  ?  '  demanded 
John  hotly.  '  If  you  can't  learn  in  any  other  way,  I  shall 
have  to  pull  your  ears  again,  as  I  did  the  other  day ! ' 

'  You  pull  my  ears  ?  How  can  you  tell  that  lie,  when 
you  know  'twas  somebody  else  pulled  'em  ? ' 

'  O  no,  no.  I  pulled  your  ears,  and  thrashed  you  in 
a  mild  way.' 

'  You'll  swear  to  it  ?     Surely  'twas  another  man  ? ' 

'  It  was  in  the  parlour  at  the  public-house ;  you  were 
almost  in  the  dark.'  And  John  added  a  few  details  as 
to  the  particular  blows,  which  amounted  to  proof  itself. 

*  Then  I  heartily  ask  your  pardon  for  saying  'twas  a 
lie ! '  cried  Festus,  advancing  with  extended  hand  and 
a  genial  smile.     '  Sure,   if  I  had  known  'twas  you,  I 
wouldn't  have  insulted  you  by  denying  it.' 
334 


THE   TRUMPET-MAJOR 

'  That  was  why  you  didn't  challenge  me,  then  ? ' 

'  That  was  it !  I  wouldn't  for  the  world  have  hurt 
your  nice  sense  of  honour  by  letting  'ee  go  unchallenged, 
if  I  had  known !  And  now,  you  see,  unfortunately  I 
can't  mend  the  mistake.  So  long  a  time  has  passed 
since  it  happened  that  the  heat  of  my  temper  is  gone  off. 
I  couldn't  oblige  'ee,  try  how  I  might,  for  I  am  not  a 
man,  trumpet-major,  that  can  butcher  in  cold  blood — 
no,  not  I,  nor  you  neither,  from  what  I  know  of  'ee.  So, 
willy-nilly,  we  must  fain  let  it  pass,  eh  ? ' 

'We  must,  I  suppose,'  said  John,  smiling  grimly. 
'Who  did  you  think  I  was,  then,  that  night  when  I 
boxed  you  all  round  ?  ' 

'  No,  don't  press  me,'  replied  the  yeoman.  '  I  can't 
reveal ;  it  would  be  disgracing  myself  to  show  how  very 
wide  of  the  truth  the  mockery  of  wine  was  able  to  lead 
my  senses.  We  will  let  it  be  buried  in  eternal  mixens 
of  forgetfulness.' 

'  As  you  wish,'  said  the  trumpet-major  loftily.  '  But 
if  you  ever  should  think  you  knew  it  was  me,  why,  you 
know  where  to  find  me  ?  '  And  Loveday  walked  away. 

The  instant  that  he  was  gone  Festus  shook  his  fist 
at  the  evening  star,  which  happened  to  lie  in  the  same 
direction  as  that  taken  by  the  dragoon. 

'  Now  for  my  revenge  !  Duels  ?  Lifelong  disgrace 
to  me  if  ever  I  fight  with  a  man  of  blood  below  my  own  ! 
There  are  other  remedies  for  upper-class  souls  !  ,  .  . 
Matilda — that's  my  way.' 

Festus  strode  along  till  he  reached  the  Hall,  where 
Cripplestraw  appeared  gazing  at  him  from  under  the  arch 
of  the  porter's  lodge.  Derriman  dashed  open  the  en- 
trance-hurdle with  such  violence  that  the  whole  row  of 
them  fell  flat  in  the  mud. 

' Mercy, Maister  Festus !'  said  Cripplestraw.    ' "Surely," 
I  says  to  myself  when  I  see  ye  a-coming,  "  surely  Mais- 
ter Festus  is  fuming  like  that  because  there's  no  chance  of 
the  enemy  coming  this  year  after  all." ' 
335 


THE   TRUMPET-MAJOR 

'  Cr-r-ripplestraw  !  I  have  been  wounded  to  the  heart,' 
replied  Derriman,  with  a  lurid  brow. 

'  And  the  man  yet  lives,  and  you  wants  yer  horse- 
pistols  instantly  ?  Certainly,  Maister  F— 

'  No,  Cripplestraw,  not  my  pistols,  but  my  new-cut 
clothes,  my  heavy  gold  seals,  my  silver-topped  cane,  and 
my  buckles  that  cost  more  money  than  he  ever  saw ! 
Yes,  I  must  tell  somebody,  and  I'll  tell  you,  because 
there's  no  other  fool  near.  He  loves  her  heart  and  soul. 
He's  poor;  she's  tip-top  genteel,  and  not  rich.  I  am 
rich,  by  comparison.  I'll  court  the  pretty  play-actress, 
and  win  her  before  his  eyes.' 

'  Play-actress,  Maister  Derriman  ?  ' 

'  Yes.  I  saw  her  this  very  day,  met  her  by  accident, 
and  spoke  to  her.  She's  still  in  the  town — perhaps  be- 
cause of  him.  I  can  meet  her  at  any  hour  of  the  day — 
But  I  don't  mean  to  marry  her;  not  I.  I  will  court 
her  for  my  pastime,  and  to  annoy  him.  It  will  be  all 
the  more  death  to  him  that  I  don't  want  her.  Then 
perhaps  he  will  say  to  me,  "  You  have  taken  my  one  ewe 
lamb  " — meaning  that  I  am  the  king,  and  he's  the  poor 
man,  as  in  the  church  verse;  and  he'll  beg  for  mercy 
when  'tis  too  late — unless,  meanwhile,  I  shall  have  tired 
of  my  new  toy.  Saddle  the  horse,  Cripplestraw,  to- 
morrow at  ten.' 

Full  of  this  resolve  to  scourge  John  Loveday  to  the 
quick  through  his  passion  for  Miss  Johnson,  Festus 
came  out  booted  and  spurred  at  the  time  appointed, 
and  set  off  on  his  morning  ride. 

Miss  Johnson's  theatrical  engagement  having  long 
ago  terminated,  she  would  have  left  the  Royal  watering- 
place  with  the  rest  of  the  visitors  had  not  matrimonial 
hopes  detained  her  there.  These  had  nothing  whatever 
to  do  with  John  Loveday,  as  may  be  imagined,  but  with 
a  stout,  staid  boat-builder  in  Cove  Row  by  the  quay, 
who  had  shown  much  interest  in  her  impersonations. 
Unfortunately  this  substantial  man  had  not  been  quite 

336 


S1TY 


or 


THE   TRUMPET-MAJOR 

so  attentive  since  the  end  of  the  season  as  his  previous 
manner  led  her  to  expect  ;  and  it  was  a  great  pleasure 
to  the  lady  to  see  Mr.  Derriman  leaning  over  the  harbour 
bridge  with  his  eyes  fixed  upon  her  as  she  came  towards 
it  after  a  stroll  past  her  elderly  wooer's  house. 

*  Od  take  it,  ma'am,  you  didn't  tell  me  when  I  saw 
you  last  that  the  tooting  man  with  the  blue  jacket  and 
lace  was  yours  devoted  ?  '  began  Festus. 

'Who  do  you  mean?'  In  Matilda's  ever-changing 
emotional  interests,  John  Loveday  was  a  stale  and  un- 
profitable personality. 

'Why,  that  trumpet-major  man.' 

'  O  !     What  of  him  ?  ' 

'  Come  ;  he  loves  you,  and  you  know  it,  ma'am.' 

She  knew,  at  any  rate,  how  to  take  the  current  when 
it  served.  So  she  glanced  at  Festus,  folded  her  lips 
meaningly,  and  nodded. 

'  I've  come  to  cut  him  out.' 

She  shook  her  head,  it  being  unsafe  to  speak  till  she 
knew  a  little  more  of  the  subject. 

'  What  !  '  said  Festus,  reddening,  «  do  you  mean  to 
say  that  you  think  of  him  seriously  —  you,  who  might 
look  so  much  higher  ?  ' 

(  Constant  dropping  will  wear  away  a  stone  ;  and  you 
should  only  hear  his  pleading  !  His  handsome  face  is 
impressive,  and  his  manners  are  —  O,  so  genteel  !  I 
am  not  rich;  I  am,  in  short,  a  poor  lady  of  decayed 
family,  who  has  nothing  to  boast  of  but  my  blood  and 
ancestors,  and  they  won't  find  a  body  in  food  and  cloth- 
ing !  —  I  hold  the  world  but  as  the  world,  Derrimanio  — 
a  stage  where  every  man  must  play  a  part,  and  mine 
a  sad  one  !  '  She  dropped  her  eyes  thoughtfully  and 
sighed. 

'  We  will  talk  of  this,'  said  Festus,  much  affected. 
*  Let  us  walk  to  the  Look-out.' 

She  made  no  objection,  and  said,  as  they  turned  that 
way,  '  Mr.  Derriman,  a  long  time  ago  I  found  something 
337  Y 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

belonging  to  you;  but  I  have  never  yet  remembered  to 
return  it.'  And  she  drew  from  her  bosom  the  paper 
which  Anne  had  dropped  in  the  meadow  when  eluding 
the  grasp  of  Festus  on  that  summer  day. 

c  Zounds,  I  smell  fresh  meat ! J  cried  Festus  when  he 
had  looked  it  over.  « 'Tis  in  my  uncle's  writing,  and  'tis 
what  I  heard  him  singing  on  the  day  the  French  didn't 
come,  and  afterwards  saw  him  marking  in  the  road. 
Tis  something  he's  got  hid  away.  Give  me  the  paper, 
there's  a  dear ;  'tis  worth  sterling  gold  ! ' 

*  Halves,  then  ?  '  said  Matilda  tenderly. 

'  Gad,  yes — anything  ! '  replied  Festus,  blazing  into 
a  smile,  for  she  had  looked  up  in  her  best  new  manner 
at  the  possibility  that  he  might  be  worth  the  winning. 
They  went  up  the  steps  to  the  summit  of  the  cliff,  and 
dwindled  over  it  against  the  sky. 


THE   TRUMPET-MAJOR 


REACTION 

XXXVII 

1  HERE  was  no  letter  from  Bob,  though  December 
had  passed,  and  the  new  year  was  two  weeks  old.  His 
movements  were,  however,  pretty  accurately  registered 
in  the  papers,  which  John  still  brought,  but  which  Anne 
no  longer  read.  During  the  second  week  in  December 
the  Victory  sailed  for  Sheerness,  and  on  the  9th  of  the 
following  January  the  public  funeral  of  Lord  Nelson  took 
place  in  St.  Paul's. 

Then  there  came  a  meagre  line  addressed  to  the 
family  in  general.  Bob's  new  Portsmouth  attachment 
was  not  mentioned,  but  he  told  them  he  had  been  one 
of  the  eight-and-forty  seamen  who  walked  two-and-two 
in  the  funeral  procession,  and  that  Captain  Hardy  had 
borne  the  banner  of  emblems  on  the  same  occasion. 
The  crew  was  soon  to  be  paid  off  at  Chatham,  when 
he  thought  of  returning  to  Portsmouth  for  a  few  days 
to  see  a  valued  friend.  After  that  he  should  come 
home. 

But  the  spring  advanced  without  bringing  him,  and 
John  watched  Anne  Garland's  desolation  with  aug- 
menting desire  to  do  something  towards  consoling  her. 
The  old  feelings,  so  religiously  held  in  check,  were 
339 


THE   TRUMPET-MAJOR 

stimulated  to  rebelliousness,  though  they  did  not  show 
themselves  in  any  direct  manner  as  yet. 

The  miller,  in  the  meantime,  who  seldom  interfered 
in  such  matters,  was  observed  to  look  meaningly  at 
Anne  and  the  trumpet-major  from  day  to  day;  and 
by-and-by  he  spoke  privately  to  John. 

His  words  were  short  and  to  the  point :  Anne  was 
very  melancholy ;  she  had  thought  too  much  of  Bob. 
Now  'twas  plain  that  they  had  lost  him  for  many  years 
to  come.  Well;  he  had  always  felt  that  of  the  two 
he  would  rather  John  married  her.  Now  John  might 
settle  down  there,  and  succeed  where  Bob  had  failed. 
'  So  if  you  could  get  her,  my  sonny,  to  think  less  of 
him  and  more  of  thyself,  it  would  be  a  good  thing 
for  all.' 

An  inward  excitement  had  risen  in  John  ;  but  he 
suppressed  it  and  said  firmly — 

'  Fairness  to  Bob  before  everything  !  ' 

« He  hev  forgot  her,  and  there's  an  end  on't.' 

1  She's  not  forgot  him.' 

1  Well,  well ;  think  it  over.' 

This  discourse  was  the  cause  of  his  penning  a  letter 
to  his  brother.  He  begged  for  a  distinct  statement 
whether,  as  John  at  first  supposed,  Bob's  verbal  re- 
nunciation of  Anne  on  the  quay  had  been  only  a 
momentary  ebullition  of  friendship,  which  it  would  be 
cruel  to  take  literally ;  or  whether,  as  seemed  now,  it 
had  passed  from  a  hasty  resolve  to  a  standing  purpose, 
persevered  in  for  his  own  pleasure,  with  not  a  care  for 
the  result  on  poor  Anne. 

John  waited  anxiously  for  the  answer,  but  no  answer 
came;  and  the  silence  seemed  even  more  significant 
than  a  letter  of  assurance  could  have  been  of  his  abso- 
lution from  further  support  to  a  claim  which  Bob  him- 
self had  so  clearly  renounced.  Thus  it  happened  that 
paternal  pressure,  brotherly  indifference,  and  his  own 
released  impulse  operated  in  one  delightful  direction, 
34° 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

and  the  trumpet- major  once  more  approached  Anne 
as  in  the  old  time. 

But  it  was  not  till  she  had  been  left  to  herself  for 
a  full  five  months,  and  the  blue-bells  and  ragged-robins 
of  the  following  year  were  again  making  themselves 
common  to  the  rambling  eye,  that  he  directly  addressed 
her.  She  was  tying  up  a  group  of  tall  flowering  plants 
in  the  garden :  she  knew  that  he  was  behind  her,  but 
she  did  not  turn.  She  had  subsided  into  a  placid 
dignity  which  enabled  her  when  watched  to  perform 
any  little  action  with  seeming  composure — very  different 
from  the  flutter  of  her  inexperienced  days. 

'  Are  you  never  going  to  turn  round  ? '  he  at  length 
asked  good-humouredly. 

She  then  did  turn,  and  looked  at  him  for  a  moment 
without  speaking ;  a  certain  suspicion  looming  in  her 
eyes,  as  if  suggested  by  his  perceptible  want  of  ease. 

'  How  like  summer  it  is  getting  to  feel,  is  it  not  ? ' 
she  said. 

John  admitted  that  it  was  getting  to  feel  like 
summer;  and,  bending  his  gaze  upon  her  with  an 
earnestness  which  no  longer  left  any  doubt  of  his  sub- 
ject, went  on  to  ask — 

'  Have  you  ever  in  these  last  weeks  thought  of  how 
it  used  to  be  between  us  ?  ' 

She  replied  quickly,  « O,  John,  you  shouldn't  begin 
that  again.  I  am  almost  another  woman  now  ! ' 

'Well,  that's  all  the  more  reason  why  I  should, 
isn't  it  ? ' 

Anne  looked  thoughtfully  to  the  other  end  of  the 
garden,  faintly  shaking  her  head ;  '  I  don't  quite  see  it 
like  that,'  she  returned. 

*  You  feel  yourself  quite  free,  don't  you  ?  ' 

'  Quite  free ! '  she  said  instantly,  and  with  proud  dis- 
tinctness ;  her  eyes  fell,  and  she  repeated  more  slowly, 
'  Quite  free/  Then  her  thoughts  seemed  to  fly  from 
herself  to  him.  '  But  you  are  not  ?  ' 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

4 1  am  not  ? J 

I  Miss  Johnson  ! ' 

*  O — that  woman !      You  know   as  well  as   I   that 
was  all  make-up,  and  that  I  never  for  a  moment  thought 
of  her.' 

I 1  had  an  idea  you  were  acting ;  but  I  wasn't  sure.' 

'  Well,  that's  nothing  now.  Anne,  I  want  to  relieve 
your  life;  to  cheer  you  in  some  way;  to  make  some 
amends  for  my  brother's  bad  conduct.  If  you  cannot 
love  me,  liking  will  be  well  enough.  I  have  thought 
over  every  side  of  it  so  many  times — for  months  have  I 
been  thinking  it  over — and  I  am  at  last  sure  that  I  do 
right  to  put  it  to  you  in  this  way.  That  I  don't  wrong 
Bob  I  am  quite  convinced.  As  far  as  he  is  concerned 
we  be  both  free.  Had  I  not  been  sure  of  that  I  would 
never  have  spoken.  Father  wants  me  to  take  on  the 
mill,  and  it  will  please  him  if  you  can  give  me  one  little 
hope ;  it  will  make  the  house  go  on  altogether  better  if 
you  can  think  o'  me.' 

'  You  are  generous  and  good,  John,'  she  said,  as  a 
big  round  tear  bowled  helter-skelter  down  her  face  and 
hat-strings. 

'  I  am  not  that ;  I  fear  I  am  quite  the  opposite,'  he 
said,  without  looking  at  her.  *  It  would  be  all  gain  to 
me —  But  you  have  not  answered  my  question.' 

She  lifted  her  eyes.  '  John,  I  cannot ! '  she  said, 
with  a  cheerless  smile.  '  Positively  I  cannot.  Will  you 
make  me  a  promise  ?  ' 

'  What  is  it  ?  ' 

1 1  want  you  to  promise  first —  Yes,  it  is  dreadfully 
unreasonable,'  she  added,  in  a  mild  distress.  '  But  do 
promise ! ' 

John  by  this  time  seemed  to  have  a  feeling  that  it 
was  all  up  with  him  for  the  present.  <  I  promise,'  he 
said  listlessly. 

*  It  is  that  you  won't  speak  to  me  about  this  for  ever 
so  long,'  she  returned,  with  emphatic  kindliness. 

342 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

1  Very  good,'  he  replied ;  '  very  good.  Dear  Anne, 
you  don't  think  I  have  been  unmanly  or  unfair  in  start- 
ing this  anew  ? ' 

Anne  looked  into  his  face  without  a  smile.  'You 
have  been  perfectly  natural,'  she  murmured.  '  And  so 
I  think  have  I.' 

John,  mournfully :  '  You  will  not  avoid  me  for  this, 
or  be  afraid  of  me  ?  I  will  not  break  my  word.  I  will 
not  worry  you  any  more.'  , 

*  Thank  you,  John.  You  need  not  have  said  worry  ; 
it  isn't  that.' 

'  Well,  I  am  very  blind  and  stupid.  I  have  been 
hurting  your  heart  all  the  time  without  knowing  it.  It 
is  my  fate,  I  suppose.  Men  who  love  women  the  very 
best  always  blunder  and  give  more  pain  than  those  who 
love  them  less.' 

Anne  laid  one  of  her  hands  on  the  other  as  she 
softly  replied,  looking  down  at  them,  *  No  one  loves 
me  as  well  as  you,  John ;  nobody  in  the  world  is  so 
worthy  to  be  loved;  and  yet  I  cannot  anyhow  love 
you  rightly.'  And  lifting  her  eyes,  «  But  I  do  so  feel 
for  you  that  I  will  try  as  hard  as  I  can  to  think 
about  you.' 

'  Well,  that  is  something,'  he  said,  smiling.  '  You 
say  I  must  not  speak  about  it  again  for  ever  so  long ; 
how  long  ? ' 

'  Now  that's  not  fair,'  Anne  retorted,  going  down  the 
garden,  and  leaving  him  alone. 

About  a  week  passed.  Then  one  afternoon  the 
miller  walked  up  to  Anne  indoors,  a  weighty  topic  being 
expressed  in  his  tread. 

'  I  was  so  glad,  my  honey,'  he  began,  with  a  knowing 
smile,  '  to  see  that  from  the  mill- window  last  week.'  He 
flung  a  nod  in  the  direction  of  the  garden. 

Anne  innocently  inquired  what  it  could  be. 

'  Jack  and  you  in  the  garden  together,'  he  continued, 
laying  his  hand  gently  on  her  shoulder  and  stroking  it. 
343 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

'  It  would  so  please  me,  my  dear  little  girl,  if  you  could 
get  to  like  him  better  than  that  weathercock,  Master 
Bob.' 

Anne  shook  her  head ;  not  in  forcible  negation,  but 
to  imply  a  kind  of  neutrality. 

'  Can't  you  ?     Come  now,'  said  the  miller. 

She  threw  back  her  head  with  a  little  laugh  of  griev- 
ance. '  How  you  all  beset  me  ! '  she  expostulated.  '  It 
makes  me  feel  very  wicked  in  not  obeying  you,  and 
being  faithful — faithful  to — '  But  she  could  not  trust 
that  side  of  the  subject  to  words.  '  Why  would  it  please 
you  so  much  ?  '  she  asked. 

'John  is  as  steady  and  staunch  a  fellow  as  ever 
blowed  a  trumpet.  I've  always  thought  you  might  do 
better  with  him  than  with  Bob.  Now  I've  a  plan  for 
taking  him  into  the  mill,  and  letting  him  have  a  com- 
fortable time  o't  after  his  long  knocking  about ;  but 
so  much  depends  upon  you  that  I  must  bide  a  bit 
till  I  see  what  your  pleasure  is  about  the  poor  fellow. 
Mind,  my  dear,  I  don't  want  to  force  ye;  I  only  just 
ask  ye.' 

Anne  meditatively  regarded  the  miller  from  under 
her  shady  eyelids,  the  fingers  of  one  hand  playing  a 
silent  tattoo  on  her  bosom.  '  I  don't  know  what  to  say 
to  you,'  she  answered  brusquely,  and  went  away. 

But  these  discourses  were  not  without  their  effect 
upon  the  extremely  conscientious  mind  of  Anne.  They 
were,  moreover,  much  helped  by  an  incident  which  took 
place  one  evening  in  the  autumn  of  this  year,  when  John 
came  to  tea.  Anne  was  sitting  on  a  low  stool  in  front 
of  the  fire,  her  hands  cla-sped  across  her  knee.  John 
Loveday  had  just  seated  himself  on  a  chair  close  behind 
her,  and  Mrs.  Loveday  was  in  the  act  of  filling  the  tea- 
pot from  the  kettle  which  hung  in  the  chimney  exactly 
above  Anne.  The  kettle  slipped  forward  suddenly; 
whereupon  John  jumped  from  the  chair  and  put  his  own 
two  hands  over  Anne's  just  in  time  to  shield  them,  and 
344 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

the  precious  knee  she  clasped,  from  the  jet  of  scalding 
water  which  had  directed  itself  upon  that  point.  The 
accidental  overflow  was  instantly  checked  by  Mrs.  Love- 
day  ;  but  what  had  come  was  received  by  the  devoted 
trumpet-major  on  the  back  of  his  hands. 

Anne,  who  had  hardly  been  aware  that  he  was 
behind  her,  started  up  like  a  person  awakened  from 
a  trance.  'What  have  you  done  to  yourself,  poor 
John,  to  keep  it  off  me ! '  she  cried,  looking  at  his 
hands. 

John  reddened  emotionally  at  her  words,  *  It  is  a  bit 
of  a  scald,  that's  all/  he  replied,  drawing  a  ringer  across 
the  back  of  one  hand,  and  bringing  off  the  skin  by  the 
touch. 

*  You  are  scalded  painfully,  and  I  not  at  all ! '  She 
gazed  into  his  kind  face  as  she  had  never  gazed  there 
before,  and  when  Mrs.  Loveday  came  back  with  oil  and 
other  liniments  for  the  wound  Anne  would  let  nobody 
dress  it  but  herself.  It  seemed  as  if  her  coyness  had  all 
gone,  and  when  she  had  done  all  that  lay  in  her  power 
she  still  sat  by  him.  At  his  departure  she  said  what 
she  had  never  said  to  him  in  her  life  before :  '  Come 
again  soon  ! ' 

In  short,  that  impulsive  act  of  devotion,  the  last  of  a 
series  of  the  same  tenor,  had  been  the  added  drop  which 
finally  turned  the  wheel.  John's  character  deeply  im- 
pressed her.  His  determined  steadfastness  to  his  lode- 
star won  her  admiration,  the  more  especially  as  that  star 
was  herself.  She  began  to  wonder  more  and  more  how 
she  could  have  so  persistently  held  out  against  his 
advances  before  Bob  came  home  to  renew  girlish  memo- 
ries which  had  by  that  time  got  considerably  weakened. 
Could  she  not,  after  all,  please  the  miller,  and  try  to 
listen  to  John  ?  By  so  doing  she  would  make  a  worthy 
man  happy,  the  only  sacrifice  being  at  worst  that  of  her 
unworthy  self,  whose  future  was  no  longer  valuable. 
'  As  for  Bob,  the  woman  is  to  be  pitied  who  loves  him,' 
345 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

she  reflected  indignantly,  and  persuaded  herself  that, 
whoever  the  woman  might  be,  she  was  not  Anne 
Garland. 

After  this  there  was  something  of  recklessness  and 
something  of  pleasantry  in  the  young  girl's  manner  of 
making  herself  an  example  of  the  triumph  of  pride  and 
common  sense  over  memory  and  sentiment.  Her 
attitude  had  been  epitomized  in  her  defiant  singing  at 
the  time  she  learnt  that  Bob  was  not  leal  and  true. 
John,  as  was  inevitable,  came  again  almost  immediately, 
drawn  thither  by  the  sun  of  her  first  smile  on  him,  and 
the  words  which  had  accompanied  it.  And  now  instead 
of  going  off  to  her  little  pursuits  upstairs,  downstairs, 
across  the  room,  in  the  corner,  or  to  any  place  except 
where  he  happened  to  be,  as  had  been  her  custom 
hitherto,  she  remained  seated  near  him,  returning  in- 
teresting answers  to  his  general  remarks,  and  at  every 
opportunity  letting  him  know  that  at  last  he  had  found 
favour  in  her  eyes. 

The  day  was  fine,  and  they  went  out  of  doors,  where 
Anne  endeavoured  to  seat  herself  on  the  sloping  stone 
of  the  window-sill. 

'  How  good  you  have  become  lately,'  said  John, 
standing  over  her  and  smiling  in  the  sunlight  which 
blazed  against  the  wall.  '  I  fancy  you  have  stayed  at 
home  this  afternoon  on  my  account.' 

'  Perhaps  I  have,'  she  said  gaily — 

*  "  Do  whatever  we  may  for  him,  dame,  we  cannot  do  too  much  ! 
For  he's  one  that  has  guarded  our  land." 

And  he  has  done  more  than  that :  he  has  saved  me 
from  a  dreadful  scalding.  The  back  of  your  hand  will 
not  be  well  for  a  long  time,  John,  will  it  ? ' 

He  held  out  his  hand  to  regard  its  condition,  and 
the  next  natural  thing  was   to  take  hers.     There  was 
a  glow  upon  his  face  when  he  did  it :  his  star  was  at 
346 


THE   TRUMPET-MAJOR 

last  on  a  fair  way  towards  the  zenith  after  its  long 
and  weary  declination.  The  least  penetrating  eye 
could  have  perceived  that  Anne  had  resolved  to  let 
him  woo,  possibly  in  her  temerity  to  let  him  win. 
Whatever  silent  sorrow  might  be  locked  up  in  her, 
it  was  by  this  time  thrust  a  long  way  down  from  the 
light. 

*  I  want  you  to  go  somewhere  with  me  if  you  will,'  he 
said,  still  holding  her  hand. 
*    .« Yes  ?     Where  is  it  ? ' 

He  pointed  to  a  distant  hill-side  which,  hitherto 
green,  had  within  the  last  few  days  begun  to  show 
scratches  of  white  on  its  face.  '  Up  there,'  he  said. 

'  I  see  little  figures  of  men  moving  about.  What  are 
they  doing  ? ' 

'  Cutting  out  a  huge  picture  of  the  king  on  horseback 
in  the  earth  of  the  hill.  The  king's  head  is  to  be  as 
big  as  our  mill-pond  and  his  body  as  big  as  this  garden ; 
he  and  the  horse  will  cover  more  than  an  acre.  When 
shall  we  go  ?  ' 

'  Whenever  you  please/  said  she. 

'  John ! '  cried  Mrs.  Loveday  from  the  front  door. 
'  Here's  a  friend  come  for  you.' 

John  went  round,  and  found  his  trusty  lieutenant, 
Trumpeter  Buck,  waiting  for  him.  A  letter  had  come 
to  the  barracks  for  John  in  his  absence,  and  the 
trumpeter,  who  was  going  for  a  walk,  had  brought  it 
along  with  him.  Buck  then  entered  the  mill  to  dis- 
cuss, if  possible,  a  mug  of  last  year's  mead  with  the 
miller;  and  John  proceeded  to  read  his  letter,  Anne 
being  still  round  the  corner  where  he  had  left  her. 
When  he  had  read  a  few  words  he  turned  as  pale  as 
a  sheet,  but  he  did  not  move,  and  perused  the  writing 
to  the  end. 

Afterwards  he  laid  his  elbow  against  the  wall,  and 
put  his  palm  to  his  head,  thinking  with  painful  intent- 
ness.     Then  he  took  himself  vigorously  in  hand,  as  it 
347 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

were,  and  gradually  became  natural  again.  When  he 
parted  from  Anne  to  go  home  with  Buck  she  noticed 
nothing  different  in  him. 

In  barracks  that  evening  he  read  the  letter  again. 
It  was  from  Bob;  and  the  agitating  contents  were 
these  :— 

'DEAR  JOHN, — I  have  drifted  off  from  writing  till  the  present 
time  because  I  have  not  been  clear  about  my  feelings ;  but  I  have 
discovered  them  at  last,  and  can  say  beyond  doubt  that  I  mean  to 
be  faithful  to  my  dearest  Anne  after  all.  The  fact  is,  John,  I've 
got  into  a  bit  of  a  scrape,  and  I've  a  secret  to  tell  you  about  it 
(which  must  go  no  further  on  any  account).  On  landing  last 
autumn  I  fell  in  with  a  young  woman,  and  we  got  rather  warm  as 
folks  do ;  in  short,  we  liked  one  another  well  enough  for  a  while. 
But  I  have  got  into  shoal  water  with  her,  and  have  found  her  to  be 
a  terrible  take-in.  Nothing  in  her  at  all — no  sense,  no  niceness,  all 
tantrums  and  empty  noise,  John,  though  she  seemed  monstrous 
clever  at  first.  So  my  heart  comes  back  to  its  old  anchorage.  I 
hope  my  return  to  faithfulness  will  make  no  difference  to  you.  But 
as  you  showed  by  your  looks  at  our  parting  that  you  should  not 
accept  my  offer  to  give  her  up — made  in  too  much  haste,  as  I  have 
since  found — I  feel  that  you  won't  mind  that  I  have  returned  to  the 
path  of  honour.  I  dare  not  write  to  Anne  as  yet,  and  please  do  not 
let  her  know  a  word  about  the  other  young  woman,  or  there  will  be 
the  devil  to  pay.  I  shall  come  home  and  make  all  things  right, 
please  God.  In  the  meantime  I  should  take  it  as  a  kindness,  John, 
if  you  would  keep  a  brotherly  eye  upon  Anne,  and  guide  her  mind 
back  to  me.  I  shall  die  of  sorrow  if  anybody  sets  her  against 
me,  for  my  hopes  are  getting  bound  up  in  her  again  quite  strong. 
Hoping  you  are  jovial,  as  times  go,  I  am, — Your  affectionate 
brother,  ROBERT.' 

When  the  cold  daylight  fell  upon  John's  face,  as  he 
dressed  himself  next  morning,  the  incipient  yesterday's 
wrinkle  in  his  forehead  had  become  permanently  graven 
there.  He  had  resolved,  for  the  sake  of  that  only 
brother  whom  he  had  nursed  as  a  baby,  instructed  as  a 
child,  and  protected  and  loved  always,  to  pause  in  his 
procedure  for  the  present,  and  at  least  do  nothing  to 
348 


THE   TRUMPET-MAJOR 

hinder  Bob's  restoration  to  favour,  if  a  genuine,  even 
though  temporarily  smothered,  love  for  Anne  should 
still  hold  possession  of  him.  But  having  arranged  to 
take  her  to  see  the  excavated  figure  of  the  king,  he 
started  for  Overcombe  during  the  day,  as  if  nothing  had 
occurred  to  check  the  smooth  course  of  his  love. 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 


A  DELICATE  SITUATION 

XXXVIII 

1  AM  ready  to  go,'  said  Anne,  as  soon  as  he  arrived. 

He  paused  as  -if  taken  aback  by  her  readiness,  and 
replied  with  much  uncertainty,  'Would  it — wouldn't  it 
be  better  to  put  it  off  till  there  is  less  sun  ?  ' 

The  very  slightest  symptom  of  surprise  arose  in  her 
as  she  rejoined,  'But  the  weather  may  change;  or  had 
we  better  not  go  at  all  ?  ' 

'  O  no  ! — it  was  only  a  thought.  We  will  start  at 
once.' 

And  along  the  vale  they  went,  John  keeping  himself 
about  a  yard  from  her  right  hand.  When  the  third  field 
had  been  crossed  they  came  upon  half-a-dozen  little  boys 
at  play. 

'  Why  don't  he  clasp  her  to  his  side,  like  a  man  ?  ' 
said  the  biggest  and  rudest  boy. 

'  Why  don't  he  clasp  her  to  his  side,  like  a  man  ? ' 
echoed  all  the  rude  smaller  boys  in  a  chorus. 

The  trumpet-major  turned,  and,  after  some  running, 
succeeded  in  smacking  two  of  them  with  his  switch, 
returning  to  Anne  breathless.  '  I  am  ashamed  they 
should  have  insulted  you  so,'  he  said,  blushing  for 
her. 

35° 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

'They  said  no  harm,  poor  boys,'  she  replied  re- 
proachfully. 

Poor  John  was  dumb  with  perception.  The  gentle 
hint  upon  which  he  would  have  eagerly  spoken  only  one 
short  day  ago  was  now  like  fire  to  his  wound. 

They  presently  came  to  some  stepping-stones  across 
a  brook.  John  crossed  first  without  turning  his  head, 
and  Anne,  just  lifting  the  skirt  of  her  dress,  crossed 
behind  him.  When  they  had  reached  the  other  side  a 
village  girl  and  a  young  shepherd  approached  the  brink 
to  cross.  Anne  stopped  and  watched  them.  The 
shepherd  took  a  hand  of  the  young  girl  in  each  of  his 
own,  and  walked  backward  over  the  stones,  facing  her, 
and  keeping  her  upright  by  his  grasp,  both  of  them 
laughing  as  they  went. 

'  What  are  you  staying  for,  Miss  Garland?'  asked  John. 

1 1  was  only  thinking  how  happy  they  are,'  she  said 
quietly ;  and  withdrawing  her  eyes  from  the  tender  pair, 
she  turned  and  followed  him,  not  knowing  that  the 
seeming  sound  of  a  passing  bumble-bee  was  a  suppressed 
groan  from  John. 

When  they  reached  the  hill  they  found  forty  navvies 
at  work  removing  the  dark  sod  so  as  to  lay  bare  the 
chalk  beneath.  The  equestrian  figure  that  their  shovels 
were  forming  was  scarcely  intelligible  to  John  and  Anne 
now  they  were  close,  and  after  pacing  from  the  horse's 
head  down  his  breast  to  his  hoof,  back  by  way  of  the 
king's  bridle-arm,  past  the  bridge  of  his  nose,  and  into 
his  cocked-hat,  Anne  said  that  she  had  had  enough  of 
it,  and  stepped  out  of  the  chalk  clearing  upon  the 
grass.  The  trumpet-major  had  remained  all  the  time  in 
a  melancholy  attitude  within  the  rowel  of  his  Majesty's 
right  spur. 

'  My  shoes  are  caked  with  chalk,'  she  said  as  they 
walked  downwards  again;  and  she  drew  back  her 
dress  to  look  at  them.  'How  can  I  get  some  of  it 
cleared  off?' 


THE   TRUMPET-MAJOR 

'If  you  was  to  wipe  them  in  the  long  grass  there,' 
said  John,  pointing  to  a  spot  where  the  blades  were 
rank  and  dense,  '  some  of  it  would  come  off.'  Having 
said  this,  he  walked  on  with  religious  firmness. 

Anne  raked  her  little  feet  on  the  right  side,  on  the 
left  side,  over  the  toe,  and  behind  the  heel;  but  the 
tenacious  chalk  held  its  own.  Panting  with  her  exer- 
tion, she  gave  it  up,  and  at  length  overtook  him. 

{ I  hope  it  is  right  now  ? '  he  said,  looking  gingerly 
over  his  shoulder. 

'  No,  indeed ! '  said  she.  '  I  wanted  some  assistance 
— some  one  to  steady  me.  It  is  so  hard  to  stand  on 
one  foot  and  wipe  the  other  without  support.  I  was 
in  danger  of  toppling  over,  and  so  gave  it  up.' 

I  Merciful  stars,  what  an  opportunity  ! '  thought  the 
poor  fellow  while  she  waited  for  him  to  offer  help.     But 
his    lips    remained   closed,   and    she   went    on  with  a 
pouting  smile — 

'  You  seem  in  such  a  hurry  !  Why  are  you  in  such 
a  hurry  ?  After  all  the  fine  things  you  have  said  about 
— about  caring  so  much  for  me,  and  all  that,  you  won't 
stop  for  anything  ! ' 

It  was  too  much  for  John.  '  Upon  my  heart  and 
life,  my  dea — '  he  began.  Here  Bob's  letter  crackled 
warningly  in  his  waistcoat  pocket  as  he  laid  his  hand 
asseveratingly  upon  his  breast,  and  he  became  suddenly 
sealed  up  to  dumbness  and  gloom  as  before. 

When  they  reached  home  Anne  sank  upon  a  stool 
outside  the  door,  fatigued  with  her  excursion.  Her 
first  act  was  to  try  to  pull  off  her  shoe — it  was  a  diffi- 
cult matter  j  but  John  stood  beating  with  his  switch  the 
leaves  of  the  creeper  on  the  wall. 

'  Mother — David — Molly,  or  somebody — do  come 
and  help  me  pull  off  these  dirty  shoes  ! '  she  cried  aloud 
at  last.  '  Nobody  helps  me  in  anything  ! ' 

I 1  am  very  sorry,'  said  John,  coming  towards  her  with 
incredible  slowness  and  an  air  of  unutterable  depression. 

352 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

'  O,  I  can  do  without  you.  David  is  best/  she  re- 
turned, as  the  old  man  approached  and  removed  the 
obnoxious  shoes  in  a  trice. 

Anne  was  amazed  at  this  sudden  change  from  de- 
votion to  crass  indifference.  On  entering  her  room  she 
flew  to  the  glass,  almost  expecting  to  learn  that  some 
extraordinary  change  had  come  over  her  pretty  counte- 
nance, rendering  her  intolerable  for  evermore.  But  it 
was,  if  anything,  fresher  than  usual,  on  account  of  the 
exercise.  '  Well ! '  she  said  retrospectively.  For  the 
first  time  since  their  acquaintance  she  had  this  week 
encouraged  him ;  and  for  the  first  time  he  had  shown 
that  encouragement  was  useless.  « But  perhaps  he  does 
not  clearly  understand,'  she  added  serenely. 

When  he  next  came  it  was,  to  her  surprise,  to  bring 
her  newspapers,  now  for  some  time  discontinued.  As 
soon  as  she  saw  them  she  said,  c  I  do  not  care  for  news- 
papers.' 

1  The  shipping  news  is  very  full  and  long  to-day, 
though  the  print  is  rather  small.' 

4 1  take  no  further  interest  in  the  shipping  news,'  she 
replied  with  cold  dignity. 

She  was  sitting  by  the  window,  inside  the  table,  and 
hence  when,  in  spite  of  her  negations,  he  deliberately 
unfolded  the  paper  and  began  to  read  about  the  Royal 
Navy  she  could  hardly  rise  and  go  away.  With  a  stoical 
mien  he  read  on  to  the  end  of  the  report,  bringing  out 
the  name  of  Bob's  ship  with  tremendous  force. 

'  No,'  she  said  at  last,  '  I'll  hear  no  more !  Let  me 
read  to  you.' 

The  trumpet-major  sat  down.  Anne  turned  to  the 
military  news,  delivering  every  detail  with  much  appa- 
rent enthusiasm.  '  That's  the  subject  J  like ! '  she  said 
fervently. 

(  But — but  Bob  is  in  the  navy  now,  and  will  most 
likely  rise  to  be  an  officer.  And  then ' 

'What    is    there   like  the  army?'   she  interrupted. 
353  z 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

f There  is  no  smartness  about  sailors."  They  waddle 
like  ducks,  and  they  only  fight  stupid  battles  that  no 
one  can  form  any  idea  of.  There  is  no  science  nor 
stratagem  in  sea-fights — nothing  more  than  what  you 
see  when  two  rams  run  their  heads  together  in  a  field 
to  knock  each  other  down.  But  in  military  battles 
there  is  such  art,  and  such  splendour,  and  the  men  are 
so  smart,  particularly  the  horse-soldiers.  O,  I  shall  never 
forget  what  gallant  men  you  all  seemed  when  you  came 
and  pitched  your  tents  on  the  downs !  I  like  the 
cavalry  better  than  anything  I  know ;  and  the  dragoons 
the  best  of  the  cavalry — and  the  trumpeters  the  best  of 
the  dragoons  ! ' 

1 0,  if  it  had  but  come  a  little  sooner ! '  moaned 
John  within  him.  He  replied  as  soon  as  he  could 
regain  self-command,  '  I  am  glad  Bob  is  in  the  navy  at 
last — he  is  so  much  more  fitted  for  that  than  the 
merchant-service — so  brave  by  nature,  ready  for  any 
daring  deed.  I  have  heard  ever  so  much  more  about 
his  doings  on  board  the  Victory.  Captain  Hardy  took 
special  notice  that  when  he ' 

'I  don't  want  to  know  anything  more  about  it,' 
said  Anne  impatiently ;  '  of  course  sailors  fight ;  there's 
nothing  else  to  do  in  a  ship,  since  you  can't  run  away ! 
You  may  as  well  fight  and  be  killed  as  be  killed  not 
fighting.' 

'Still  it  is  his  character  to  be  careless  of  himself 
where  the  honour  of  his  country  is  concerned,'  John 
pleaded.  '  If  you  had  only  known  him  as  a  boy  you 
would  own  it.  He  would  always  risk  his  own  life  to 
save  anybody  else's.  Once  when  a  cottage  was  afire 
up  the  lane  he  rushed  in  for  a  baby,  although  he  was 
only  a  boy  himself,  and  he  had  the  narrowest  escape. 
We  have  got  his  hat  now  with  the  hole  burnt  in  it. 
Shall  I  get  it  and  show  it  to  you  ?  ' 

*  No — I  don't  wish  it.  It  has  nothing  to  do  with 
me.'  But  as  he  persisted  in  his  course  towards  the 
354 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

door,  she  added,  '  Ah !  you  are  leaving  because  I 
am  in  your  way.  You  want  to  be  alone  while  you 
read  the  paper — I  will  go  at  once.  I  did  not  see 
that  I  was  interrupting  you.'  And  she  rose  as  if  to 
retreat. 

'  No,  no !  I  would  rather  be  interrupted  by  you 
than — O,  Miss  Garland,  excuse  me  !  I'll  just  speak 
to  father  in  the  mill,  now  I  am  here.' 

It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  state  that  Anne  (whose 
unquestionable  gentility  amid  somewhat  homely  sur- 
roundings has  been  many  times  insisted  on  in  the 
course  of  this  history)  was  usually  the  reverse  of  a 
woman  with  a  coming-on  disposition ;  but,  whether 
from  pique  at  his  manner,  or  from  wilful  adherence  to 
a  course  rashly  resolved  on,  or  from  coquettish  mali- 
ciousness in  reaction  from  long  depression,  or  from 
any  other  thing, — so  it  was  that  she  would  not  let 
him  go. 

1  Trumpet-major,'  she  said,  recalling  him. 

{ Yes  ? '  he  replied  timidly. 

'The  bow  of  my  cap-ribbon  has  come  untied,  has 
it  not?'  She  turned  and  fixed  her  bewitching  glance 
upon  him. 

The  bow  was  just  over  her  forehead,  or,  more  pre- 
cisely, at  the  point  where  the  organ  of  comparison 
merges  in  that  of  benevolence,  according  to  the  phreno- 
logical theory  of  Gall.  John,  thus  brought  to,  endea- 
voured to  look  at  the  bow  in  a  skimming,  duck-and- 
drake  fashion,  so  as  to  avoid  dipping  his  own  glance 
as  far  as  to  the  plane  of  his  interrogator's  eyes.  '  It 
is  untied,'  he  said,  drawing  back  a  little. 

She  came  nearer,  and  asked,  '  Will  you  tie  it  for  me, 
please  ?  ' 

As  there  was  no  help  for  it,  he  nerved  himself  and 

assented.     As    her   head   only   reached    to   his  fourth 

button  she  necessarily  looked  up  for  his  convenience, 

and  John  began  fumbling  at  the  bow.     Try  as  he  would, 

355 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

it  was  impossible  to  touch  the  ribbon  without  getting 
his  finger  tips  mixed  with  the  curls  of  her  forehead. 

'  Your  hand  shakes — ah  !  you  have  been  walking 
fast,'  she  said. 

I  Yes— yes/ 

'  Have  you  almost  done  it  ? '  She  inquiringly 
directed  her  gaze  upward  through  his  fingers. 

'  No  —  not  yet,'  he  faltered  in  a  warm  sweat  of 
emotion,  his  heart  going  like  a  flail. 

'  Then  be  quick,  please.' 

'  Yes,  I  will,  Miss  Garland  !  B — B — Bob  is  a  very 
good  fel ' 

*  Not  that  man's  name  to  me  ! '  she  interrupted. 
John  was   silent  instantly,  and  nothing  was  to  be 

heard  but  the  rustling  of  the  ribbon ;  till  his  hands  once 
more  blundered  among  the  curls,  and  then  touched  her 
forehead. 

*  O  good  God ! '  ejaculated  the  trumpet-major  in  a 
whisper,  turning  away  hastily  to  the  corner-cupboard, 
and  resting  his  face  upon  his  hand. 

'  What's  the  matter,  John  ? '  said  she. 

I 1  can't  do  it ! ' 
'What?' 

'  Tie  your  cap-ribbon.' 
1  Why  not  ? ' 

*  Because  you  are  so — Because  I  am  clumsy,  and 
never  could  tie  a  bow.' 

'  You  are  clumsy  indeed,'  answered  Anne,  and  went 
away. 

After  this  she  felt  injured,  for  it  seemed  to  show  that 
he  rated  her  happiness  as  of  meaner  value  than  Bob's ; 
since  he  had  persisted  in  his  idea  of  giving  Bob  another 
chance  when  she  had  implied  that  it  was  her  wish  to  do 
otherwise.  Could  Miss  Johnson  have  anything  to  do 
with  his  firmness  ?  An  opportunity  of  testing  him  in 
this  direction  occurred  some  days  later.  She  had  been 
up  the  village,  and  met  John  at  the  mill-door. 

356 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

'  Have  you  heard  the  news  ?  Matilda  Johnson  is 
going  to  be  married  to  young  Derriman.' 

Anne  stood  with  her  back  to  the  sun,  and  as  he 
faced  her,  his  features  were  searchingly  exhibited.  There 
was  no  change  whatever  in  them,  unless  it  were  that  a 
certain  light  of  interest  kindled  by  her  question  turned 
to  complete  and  blank  indifference.  '  Well,  as  times  go, 
it  is  not  a  bad  match  for  her,'  he  said,  with  a  phlegm 
which  was  hardly  that  of  a  lover. 

John  on  his  part  was  beginning  to  find  these  tempta- 
tions almost  more  than  he  could  bear.  But  being 
quartered  so  near  to  his  father's  house  it  was  unnatural 
not  to  visit  him,  especially  when  at  any  moment  the 
regiment  might  be  ordered  abroad,  and  a  separation  of 
years  ensue ;  and  as  long  as  he  went  there  he  could  not 
help  seeing  her. 

The  year  changed  from  green  to  gold,  and  from  gold 
to  grey,  but  little  change  came  over  the  house  of  Love- 
day.  During  the  last  twelve  months  Bob  had  been 
occasionally  heard  of  as  upholding  his  country's  honour 
in  Denmark,  the  West  Indies,  Gibraltar,  Malta,  and 
other  places  about  the  globe,  till  the  family  received  a 
short  letter  stating  that  he  had  arrived  again  at  Ports- 
mouth. At  Portsmouth  Bob  seemed  disposed  to 
remain,  for  though  some  time  elapsed  without  further 
intelligence,  the  gallant  seaman  never  appeared  at  Over- 
combe.  Then  on  a  sudden  John  learnt  that  Bob's  long- 
talked-of  promotion  for  signal  services  rendered  was  to 
be  an  accomplished  fact.  The  trumpet-major  at  once 
walked  off  to  Overcombe,  and  reached  the  village  in 
the  early  afternoon.  Not  one  of  the  family  was  in  the 
house  at  the  moment,  and  John  strolled  onwards  over 
the  hill  towards  Casterbridge,  without  much  thought  of 
direction  till,  lifting  his  eyes,  he  beheld  Anne  Garland 
wandering  about  with  a  little  basket  upon  her  arm. 

At  first  John  blushed  with  delight  at  the  sweet 
vision ;  but,  recalled  by  his  conscience,  the  blush  of 
357 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

delight  was  at  once  mangled  and  skin.  He  looked  for 
a  means  of  retreat.  But  the  field  was  open,  and  a 
soldier  was  a  conspicuous  object :  there  was  no  escap- 
ing her. 

*  It  was  kind  of  you  to  come,'  she  said,  with  an  inviting 
smile. 

'  It  was  quite  by  accident,'  he  answered,  with  an 
indifferent  laugh.  '  I  thought  you  was  at  home.' 

Anne  blushed  and  said  nothing,  and  they  rambled  on 
together.  In  the  middle  of  the  field  rose  a  fragment  of 
stone  wall  in  the  form  of  a  gable,  known  as  Faringdon 
Ruin ;  and  when  they  had  reached  it  John  paused  and 
politely  asked  her  if  she  were  not  a  little  tired  with  walk- 
ing so  far.  No  particular  reply  was  returned  by  the 
young  lady,  but  they  both  stopped,  and  Anne  seated 
herself  on  a  stone,  which  had  fallen  from  the  ruin  to 
the  ground. 

'A  church  once  stood  here,'  observed  John  in  a 
matter-of-fact  tone. 

1  Yes,  I  have  often  shaped  it  out  in  my  mind,'  she 
returned.  '  Here  where  I  sit  must  have  been  the  altar.' 

4  True ;  this  standing  bit  of  wall  was  the  chancel  end.' 

Anne  had  been  adding  up  her  little  studies  of  the 
trumpet-major's  character,  and  was  surprised  to  find  how 
the  brightness  of  that  character  increased  in  her  eyes  with 
each  examination.  A  kindly  and  gentle  sensation  was 
again  aroused  in  her.  Here  was  a  neglected  heroic  man, 
who,  loving  her  to  distraction,  deliberately  doomed  him- 
self to  pensive  shade  to  avoid  even  the  appearance  of 
standing  in  a  brother's  way. 

'  If  the  altar  stood  here,  hundreds  of  people  have  been 
made  man  and  wife  just  there,  in  past  times/  she  said, 
with  calm  deliberateness,  throwing  a  little  stone  on  a 
spot  about  a  yard  westward. 

John  annihilated  another  tender  burst  and  replied, 
fYes,  this  field  used  to  be  a  village.  My  grandfather 
could  call  to  mind  when  there  were  houses  here.  But 

358 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

the  squire  pulled  'em  down,  because  poor  folk  were  an 
eyesore  to  him.' 

'  Do  you  know,  John,  what  you  once  asked  me  to 
do  ? '  she  continued,  not  accepting  the  digression,  and 
turning  her  eyes  upon  him. 

'  In  what  sort  of  way  ?  ' 

'  In  the  matter  of  my  future  life,  and  yours.' 

'  I  am  afraid  I  don't.' 

'  John  Loveday  ! ' 

He  turned  his  back  upon  her  for  a  moment,  that  she 
might  not  see  his  face.  *  Ah ! — I  do  remember,'  he 
said  at  last,  in.  a  dry,  small,  repressed  voice. 

'  Well — need  I  say  more  ?     Isn't  it  sufficient  ?  ' 

'  It  would  be  sufficient,'  answered  the  unhappy  man. 
« But ' 

She  looked  up  with  a  reproachful  smile,  and  shook 
her  head.  {  That  summer,'  she  went  on,  '  you  asked  me 
ten  times  if  you  asked  me  once.  I  am  older  now ;  much 
more  of  a  woman,  you  know ;  and  my  opinion  is  changed 
about  some  people ;  especially  about  one.' 

'  O  Anne,  Anne ! '  he  burst  out  as,  racked  between 
honour  and  desire,  he  snatched  up  her  hand.  The  next 
moment  it  fell  heavily  to  her  lap.  He  had  absolutely 
relinquished  it  half-way  to  his  lips. 

1 1  have  been  thinking  lately,'  he  said,  with  preter- 
naturally  sudden  calmness,  'that  men  of  the  military 
profession  ought  not  to  m — ought  to  be  like  St.  Paul, 
I  mean.' 

'  Fie,  John ;  pretending  religion  ! '  she  said  sternly. 
<  It  isn't  that  at  all.  Its  Bob  I ' 

'  Yes  ! '  cried  the  miserable  trumpet-major.  '  I  have 
had  a  letter  from  him  to-day.'  He  pulled  out  a  sheet  of 
paper  from  his  breast.  '  That's  it !  He's  promoted — 
he's  a  lieutenant,  and  appointed  to  a  sloop  that  only 
cruises  on  our  own  coast,  so  that  he'll  be  at  home  on 
leave  half  his  time — he'll  be  a  gentleman  some  day,  and 
worthy  of  you ! ' 

359 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

He  threw  the  letter  into  her  lap,  and  drew  back  to 
the  other  side  of  the  gable-wall.  Anne  jumped  up  from 
her  seat,  flung  away  the  letter  without  looking  at  it,  and 
went  hastily  on.  John  did  not  attempt  to  overtake  her. 
Picking  up  the  letter,  he  followed  in  her  wake  at  a 
distance  of  a  hundred  yards. 

But,  though  Anne  had  withdrawn  from  his  presence 
thus  precipitately,  she  never  thought  more  highly  of  him 
in  her  life  than  she  did  five  minutes  afterwards,  when 
the  excitement  of  the  moment  had  passed.  She  saw  it 
all  quite  clearly;  and  his  self-sacrifice  impressed  her  so 
much  that  the  effect  was  just  the  reverse  of  what  he  had 
been  aiming  to  produce.  The  more  he  pleaded  for 
Bob,  the  more  her  perverse  generosity  pleaded  for  John. 
To-day  the  crisis  had  come — with  what  results  she  had 
not  foreseen. 

As  soon  as  the  trumpet-major  reached  the  nearest 
pen-and-ink  he  flung  himself  into  a  seat  and  wrote  wildly 
to  Bob : — 

*  DEAR  ROBERT, — I  write  these  few  lines  to  let  you  know  that  if 

you  want  Anne  Garland  you  must  come  at  once — you  must  come 

instantly,  and  post-haste — or  she  "will  be  gone  !    Somebody  else  wants 

her,  and  she  wants  him  !     It  is  your  last  chance,  in  the  opinion  of— 

'  Your  faithful  brother  and  well-wisher, 

•JOHN. 

1  P.S. — Glad  to  hear  of  your  promotion.  Tell  me  the  day  and 
I'll  meet  the  coach.' 


THE   TRUMPET-MAJOR 


BOB  LOVED  AY  STRUTS 

UP  AND  DOWN 

XXXIX 

ONE  night,  about  a  week  later,  two  men  were  walking 
in  the  dark  along  the  turnpike  road  towards  Overcombe, 
one  of  them  with  a  bag  in  his  hand. 

'  Now,'  said  the  taller  of  the  two,  the  squareness  of 
whose  shoulders  signified  that  he  wore  epaulettes,  '  now 
you  must  do  the  best  you  can  for  yourself,  Bob.  I  have 
done  all  I  can ;  but  th'hast  thy  work  cut  out,  I  can  tell 
thee.' 

*  I  wouldn't  have  run  such  a  risk  for  the  world,'  said 
the  other,  in  a  tone  of  ingenuous  contrition.  '  But 
thou'st  see,  Jack,  I  didn't  think  there  was  any  danger, 
knowing  you  was  taking  care  of  her,  and  keeping  my 
place  warm  for  me.  I  didn't  hurry  myself,  that's  true ; 
but,  thinks  I,  if  I  get  this  promotion  I  am  promised  I 
shall  naturally  have  leave,  and  then  I'll  go  and  see  'em 
all.  Gad,  I  shouldn't  have  been  here  now  but  for  your 
letter ! ' 

'You  little  think  what  risks  you've  run,'  said  his 
brother.  '  However,  try  to  make  up  for  lost  time.' 

'  All  right.  And  whatever  you  do,  Jack,  don't  say  a 
word  about  this  other  girl.  Hang  the  girl ! — I  was  a 
great  fool,  I  know ;  still,  it  is  over  now,  and  I  am  come 
361 


THE   TRUMPET-MAJOR 

to  my  senses.  I  suppose  Anne  never  caught  a  capful 
of  wind  from  that  quarter  ?  ' 

'  She  knows  all  about  it,'  said  John  seriously. 

'  Knows  ?  By  George,  then,  I'm  ruined  ! '  said  Bob, 
standing  stock-still  in  the  road  as  if  he  meant  to  re- 
main there  all  night. 

'  That's  what  I  meant  by  saying  it  would  be  a  hard 
battle  for  'ee,'  returned  John,  with  the  same  quietness 
as  before. 

Bob  sighed  and  moved  on.  c  I  don't  deserve  that 
woman  !  '  he  cried  passionately,  thumping  his  three 
upper  ribs  with  his  fist. 

'  I've  thought  as  much  myself,'  observed  John,  with 
a  dryness  which  was  almost  bitter.  '  But  it  depends 
on  how  thou'st  behave  in  future.' 

'  John,'  said  Bob,  taking  his  brother's  hand,  '  I'll  be 
a  new  man.  I  solemnly  swear  by  that  eternal  milestone 
staring  at  me  there  that  I'll  never  look  at  another 
woman  with  the  thought  of  marrying  her  whilst  that 
darling  is  free — no,  not  if  she  be  a  mermaiden  of  light ! 
It's  a  lucky  thing  that  I'm  slipped  in  on  the  quarter- 
deck !  it  may  help  me  with  her — hey  ?  ' 

'  It  may  with  her  mother ;  I  don't  think  it  will 
make  much  difference  with  Anne.  Still,  it  is  a  good 
thing ;  and  I  hope  that  some  day  you'll  command  a 
big  ship.' 

Bob  shook  his  head.  *  Officers  are  scarce ;  but  I'm 
afraid  my  luck  won't  carry  me  so  far  as  that.' 

'  Did  she  ever  tell  you  that  she  mentioned  your  name 
to  the  King  ?  ' 

The  seaman  stood  still  again.  '  Never  !  '  he  said. 
*  How  did  such  a  thing  as  that  happen,  in  Heaven's 
name  ? ' 

John  described  in  detail,  and  they  walked  on,  lost 
in  conjecture. 

As  soon  as  they  entered  the  house  the  returned 
officer  of  the  navy  was  welcomed  with  acclamation  by 
362 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

his  father  and  David,  with  mild  approval  by  Mrs.  Love- 
day,  and  by  Anne  not  at  all — that  discreet  maiden 
having  carefully  retired  to  her  own  room  some  time 
earlier  in  the  evening.  Bob  did  not  dare  to  ask  for 
her  in  any  positive  manner ;  he  just  inquired  about  her 
health,  and  that  was  all. 

'  Why,  what's  the  matter  with  thy  face,  my  son  ?  ' 
said  the  miller,  staring.  '  David,  show  a  light  here.' 
And  a  candle  was  thrust  against  Bob's  cheek,  where 
there  appeared  a  jagged  streak  like  the  geological  re- 
mains of  a  lobster. 

'  O — that's  where  that  rascally  Frenchman's  grenade 
busted  and  hit  me  from  the  Redoubtable,  you  know,  as 
I  told  'ee  in  my  letter.' 

'  Not  a  word  !  ' 

'  What,  didn't  I  tell  'ee  ?  Ah,  no  ;  I  meant  to,  but 
I  forgot  it.' 

'  And  here's  a  sort  of  dint  in  yer  forehead  too  ;  what 
do  that  mean,  my  dear  boy  ?  '  said  the  miller,  putting 
his  finger  in  a  chasm  in  Bob's  skull. 

4  That  was  done  in  the  Indies.  Yes,  that  was  rather 
a  troublesome  chop — a  cutlass  tHd  it.  I  should  have 
told  'ee,  but  I  found  'twould  make  my  letter  so  long 
that  I  put  it  off,  and  put  it  off;  and  at  last  thought  it 
wasn't  worth  while.' 

John  soon  rose  to  take  his  departure. 

'  It's  all  up  with  me  and  her,  you  see,'  said  Bob 
to  him  outside  the  door.  '  She's  not  even  going  to 
see  me.' 

'  Wait  a  little,'  said  the  trumpet-major. 

It  was  easy  enough  on  the  night  of  the  arrival,  in 
the  midst  of  excitement,  when  blood  was  warm,  for 
Anne  to  be  resolute  in  her  avoidance  of  Bob  Loveday. 
But  in  the  morning  determination  is  apt  to  grow  in- 
vertebrate ;  rules  of  pugnacity  are  less  easily  acted  up 
to,  and  a  feeling  of  live  and  let  live  takes  possession 
of  the  gentle  soul.  Anne  had  not  meant  even  to  sit 

363 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

down  to  the  same  breakfast-table  with  Bob ;  but  when 
the  rest  were  assembled,  and  had  got  some  way  through 
the  substantial  repast  which  was  served  at  this  hour  in 
the  miller's  house,  Anne  entered.  She  came  silently 
as  a  phantom,  her  eyes  cast  down,  her  cheeks  pale.  It 
was  a  good  long  walk  from  the  door  to  the  table,  and 
Bob  made  a  full  inspection  of  her  as  she  came  up  to 
a  chair  at  the  remotest  corner,  in  the  direct  rays  of  the 
morning  light,  where  she  dumbly  sat  herself  down. 

It  was  altogether  different  from  how  she  had  ex- 
pected. Here  was  she,  who  had  done  nothing,  feeling 
all  the  embarrassment ;  and  Bob,  who  had  done  the 
wrong,  feeling  apparently  quite  at  ease. 

'  You'll  speak  to  Bob,  won't  you,  honey  ? '  said  the 
miller  after  a  silence.  To  meet  Bob  like  this  after  an 
absence  seemed  irregular  in  his  eyes. 

'  If  he  wish  me  to,'  she  replied,  so  addressing  the 
miller  that  no  part,  scrap,  or  outlying  beam  whatever  of 
her  glance  passed  near  the  subject  of  her  remark. 

'  He's  a  lieutenant,  you  know,  dear,'  said  her  mother 
on  the  same  side ;  '  and  he's  been  dreadfully  wounded.' 

'  Oh  ? '  said  Anne,  turning  a  little  towards  the  false 
one ;  at  which  Bob  felt  it  to  be  time  for  him  to  put  in  a 
spoke  for  himself. 

'  I  am  glad  to  see  you,'  he  said  contritely ;  {  and  how 
do  you  do  ? ' 

'  Very  well,  thank  you.' 

He  extended  his  hand.  She  allowed  him  to  take 
hers,  but  only  to  the  extent  of  a  niggardly  inch  or  so. 
At  the  same  moment  she  glanced  up  at  him,  when  their 
eyes  met,  and  hers  were  again  withdrawn. 

The  hitch  between  the  two  younger  members  of  the 
household  tended  to  make  the  breakfast  a  dull  one. 
Bob  was  so  depressed  by  her  unforgiving  manner  that 
he  could  not  throw  that  sparkle  into  his  stories  which 
their  substance  naturally  required ;  and  when  the  meal 
was  over,  and  they  went  about  their  different  businesses, 
364 


THE   TRUMPET-MAJOR 

the  pair  resembled  the  two  Dromios  in  seldom  or  never 
being,  thanks  to  Anne's  subtle  contrivances,  both  in  the 
same  room  at  the  same  time. 

This  kind  of  performance  repeated  itself  during 
several  days.  At  last,  after  dogging  her  hither  and 
thither,  leaning  with  a  wrinkled  forehead  against  door- 
posts, taking  an  oblique  view  into  the  room  where  she 
happened  to  be,  picking  up  worsted  balls  and  getting 
no  thanks,  placing  a  splinter  from  the  Victory,  several 
bullets  from  the  Redoubtable,  a  strip  of  the  flag,  and 
other  interesting  relics,  carefully  labelled,  upon  her  table, 
and  hearing  no  more  about  them  than  if  they  had  been 
pebbles  from  the  nearest  brook,  he  hit  upon  a  new  plan. 
To  avoid  him  she  frequently  sat  upstairs  in  a  window 
overlooking  the  garden.  Lieutenant  Loveday  carefully 
dressed  himself  in  a  new  uniform,  which  he  had  caused 
to  be  sent  some  days  before,  to  dazzle  admiring  friends, 
but  which  he  had  never  as  yet  put  on  in  public  or 
mentioned  to  a  soul.  When  arrayed  he  entered  the 
sunny  garden,  and  there  walked  slowly  up  and  down  as 
he  had  seen  Nelson  and  Captain  Hardy  do  on  the 
quarter-deck ;  but  keeping  his  right  shoulder,  on  which 
his  one  epaulette  was  fixed,  as  much  towards  Anne's 
window  as  possible. 

But  she  made  no  sign,  though  there  was  not  the  least 
question  that  she  saw  him.  At  the  end  of  half-an-hour 
he  went  in,  took  off  his  clothes,  and  gave  himself  up  to 
doubt  and  the  best  tobacco. 

He  repeated  the  programme  on  the  next  afternoon,  and 
on  the  next,  never  saying  a  word  within  doors  about  his 
doings  or  his  notice. 

Meanwhile  the  results  in  Anne's  chamber  were  not 
uninteresting.  She  had  been  looking  out  on  the  first 
day,  and  was  duly  amazed  to  see  a  naval  officer  in  full 
uniform  promenading  in  the  path.  Finding  it  to  be  Bob, 
she  left  the  window  with  a  sense  that  the  scene  was  not 
for  her;  then,  from  mere  curiosity,  peeped  out  from 

365 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

behind  the  curtain.  Well,  he  was  a  pretty  spectacle, 
she  admitted,  relieved  as  his  figure  was  by  a  dense  mass 
of  sunny,  close-trimmed  hedge,  over  which  nasturtiums 
climbed  in  wild  luxuriance ;  and  if  she  could  care  for  him 
one  bit,  which  she  couldn't,  his  form  would  have  been  a 
delightful  study,  surpassing  in  interest  even  its  splendour 
on  the  memorable  day  of  their  visit  to  the  town  theatre. 
She  called  her  mother ;  Mrs.  Loveday  came  promptly. 

'  O,  it  is  nothing,'  said  Anne  indifferently ;  '  only  that 
Bob  has  got  his  uniform.' 

Mrs.  Loveday  peeped  out,  and  raised  her  hands  with 
delight.  '  And  he  has  not  said  a  word  to  us  about  it ! 
What  a  lovely  epaulette  !  I  must  call  his  father.' 

1  No,  indeed.  As  I  take  no  interest  in  him  I  shall 
not  let  people  come  into  my  room  to  admire  him.' 

'  Well,  you  called  me,'  said  her  mother. 

1  It  was  because  I  thought  you  liked  fine  clothes.  It 
is  what  I  don't  care  for.' 

Notwithstanding  this  assertion  she  again  looked  out 
at  Bob  the  next  afternoon  when  his  footsteps  rustled  on 
the  gravel,  and  studied  his  appearance  under  all  the  vary- 
ing angles  of  the  sunlight,  as  if  fine  clothes  and  uniforms 
were  not  altogether  a  matter  of  indifference.  He  cer- 
tainly was  a  splendid,  gentlemanly,  and  gallant  sailor  from 
end  to  end  of  him ;  but  then,  what  were  a  dashing  pre- 
sentment, a  naval  rank,  and  telling  scars,  if  a  man  was 
fickle-hearted  ?  However,  she  peeped  on  till  the  fourth 
day,  and  then  she  did  not  peep.  The  window  was  open, 
she  looked  right  out,  and  Bob  knew  that  he  had  got  a 
rise  to  his  bait  at  last.  He  touched  his  hat  to  her,  keep- 
ing his  right  shoulder  forwards,  and  said,  '  Good-day,  Miss 
Garland/  with  a  smile. 

Anne  replied,  '  Good-day,'  with  funereal  seriousness ; 
and  the  acquaintance  thus  revived  led  to  the  interchange 
of  a  few  words  at  supper-time,  at  which  Mrs.  Loveday 
nodded  with  satisfaction.  But  Anne  took  especial  care 
that  he  should  never  meet  her  alone,  and  to  insure  this 
366 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

her  ingenuity  was  in  constant  exercise.  There  were  so 
many  nooks  and  windings  on  the  miller's  rambling  pre- 
mises that  she  could  never  be  sure  he  would  not  turn  up 
within  a  foot  of  her,  particularly  as  his  thin  shoes  were 
almost  noiseless. 

One  fine  afternoon  she  accompanied  Molly  in  search 
of  elderberries  for  making  the  family  wine  which  was 
drunk  by  Mrs.  Loveday,  Anne,  and  anybody  who  could 
not  stand  the  rougher  and  stronger  liquors  provided  by 
the  miller.  After  walking  rather  a  long  distance  over  the 
down  they  came  to  a  grassy  hollow,  where  elder-bushes 
in  knots  of  twos  and  threes  rose  from  an  uneven  bank 
and  hung  their  heads  towards  the  south,  black  and  heavy 
with  bunches  of  fruit.  The  charm  of  fruit-gathering  to 
girls  is  enhanced  in  the  case  of  elderberries  by  the  in- 
offensive softness  of  the  leaves,  boughs,  and  bark,  which 
makes  getting  into  the  branches  easy  and  pleasant  to 
the  most  indifferent  climbers.  Anne  and  Molly  had 
soon  gathered  a  basketful,  and  sending  the  servant  home 
with  it,  Anne  remained  in  the  bush  picking  and  throw- 
ing down  bunch  by  bunch  upon  the  grass.  She  was  so 
absorbed  in  her  occupation  of  pulling  the  twigs  towards 
her,  and  the  rustling  of  their  leaves  so  filled  her  ears, 
that  it  was  a  great  surprise  when,  on  turning  her  head, 
she  perceived  a  similar  movement  to  her  own  among 
the  boughs  of  the  adjoining  bush. 

At  first  she  thought  they  were  disturbed  by  being 
partly  in  contact  with  the  boughs  of  her  bush ;  but  in  a 
moment  Robert  Loveday's  face  peered  from  them,  at  a 
distance  of  about  a  yard  from  her  own.  Anne  uttered 
a  little  indignant  *  Well ! '  recovered  herself,  and  went 
on  plucking.  Bob  thereupon  went  on  plucking  likewise. 

1 1  am  picking  elderberries  for  your  mother,'  said  the 
lieutenant  at  last,  humbly. 

'  So  I  see.' 

'  And  I  happen  to  have  come  to  the  next  bush  to 
yours.' 

367 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

'  So  I  see ;  but  not  the  reason  why.' 

Anne  was  now  in  the  westernmost  branches  of  the 
bush,  and  Bob  had  leant  across  into  the  eastern  branches 
of  his.  In  gathering  he  swayed  towards  her,  back  again, 
forward  again. 

*  I  beg  pardon,'  he  said,  when  a  further  swing  than 
usual  had  taken  him  almost  in  contact  with  her. 

'  Then  why  do  you  do  it  ?  ' 

'  The  wind  rocks  the  bough,  and  the  bough  rocks  me.' 
She  expressed  by  a  look  her  opinion  of  this  statement  in 
the  face  of  the  gentlest  breeze ;  and  Bob  pursued  :  *  I 
am  afraid  the  berries  will  stain  your  pretty  hands.' 

'  I  wear  gloves.' 

'Ah,  that's  a  plan  I  should  never  have  thought  of. 
Can  I  help  you  ?  ' 

'  Not  at  all.' 

'  You  are  offended  :  that's  what  that  means.' 

*  No,'  she  said. 

'  Then  will  you  shake  hands  ?  ' 

Anne  hesitated ;  then  slowly  stretched  out  her  hand, 
which  he  took  at  once.  '  That  will  do,'  she  said,  find- 
ing that  he  did  not  relinquish  it  immediately.  But  as 
he  still  held  it,  she  pulled,  the  effect  of  which  was  to 
draw  Bob's  swaying  person,  bough  and  all,  towards  her, 
and  herself  towards  him. 

'I  am  afraid  to  let  go  your  hand,'  said  that  officer; 
'for  if  I  do  your  spar  will  fly  back,  and  you  will  be 
thrown  upon  the  deck  with  great  violence.' 

'  I  wish  you  to  let  me  go ! ' 

He  accordingly  did,  and  she  flew  back,  but  did  not 
by  any  means  fall. 

*  It  reminds  me  of  the  times  when  I  used  to  be  aloft 
clinging  to  a  yard  not  much  bigger  than  this  tree-stem, 
in  the  mid-Atlantic,  and  thinking  about  you.     I  could 
see  you  in  my  fancy  as  plain  as  I  see  you  now/ 

'  Me,  or  some  other  woman ! '  retorted  Anne 
haughtily. 

368 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

'  No  ! '  declared  Bob,  shaking  the  bush  for  emphasis. 
'  I'll  protest  that  I  did  not  think  of  anybody  but  you 
all  the  time  we  were  dropping  down  channel,  all  the 
time  we  were  off  Cadiz,  all  the  time  through  battles  and 
bombardments.  I  seemed  to  see  you  in  the  smoke,  and, 
thinks  I,  if  I  go  to  Davy's  locker,  what  will  she  do  ? ' 

'You  didn't  think  that  when  you  landed  after 
Trafalgar.' 

'  Well,  now,'  said  the  lieutenant  in  a  reasoning  tone ; 
'  that  was  a  curious  thing.  You'll  hardly  believe  it, 
maybe ;  but  when  a  man  is  away  from  the  woman  he 
loves  best  in  the  port — world,  I  mean — he  can  have  a 
sort  of  temporary  feeling  for  another  without  disturbing 
the  old  one,  which  flows  along  under  the  same  as  ever.' 

'  I  can't  believe  it,  and  won't,'  said  Anne  firmly. 

Molly  now  appeared  with  the  empty  basket,  and 
when  it  had  been  filled  from  the  heap  on  the  grass, 
Anne  went  home  with  her,  bidding  Loveday  a  frigid 
adieu. 

The  same  evening,  when  Bob  was  absent,  the  miller 
proposed  that  they  should  all  three  go  to  an  upper 
window  of  the  house,  to  get  a  distant  view  of  some 
rockets  and  illuminations  which  were  to  be  exhibited  in 
the  town  and  harbour  in  honour  of  the  King,  who  had 
returned  this  year  as  usual.  They  accordingly  went 
upstairs  to  an  empty  attic,  placed  chairs  against  the 
window,  and  put  out  the  light,  Anne  sitting  in  the 
middle,  her  mother  close  by,  and  the  miller  behind, 
smoking.  No  sign  of  any  pyrotechnic  display  was 
visible  over  the  port  as  yet,  and  Mrs.  Loveday  passed 
the  time  by  talking  to  the  miller,  who  replied  in  mono- 
syllables. While  this  was  going  on  Anne  fancied  that 
she  heard  some  one  approach,  and  presently  felt  sure 
that  Bob  was  drawing  near  her  in  the  surrounding 
darkness ;  but  as  the  other  two  had  noticed  nothing  she 
said  not  a  word. 

All  at  once  the  swarthy  expanse  of  southward  sky 
369  2  A 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

was  broken  by  the  blaze  of  several  rockets  simultane- 
ously ascending  from  different  ships  in  the  roads.  At 
the  very  same  moment  a  warm  mysterious  hand  slipped 
round  her  own,  and  gave  it  a  gentle  squeeze. 

1  O  dear ! '  said  Anne,  with  a  sudden  start  away. 

1  How  nervous  you  are,  child,  to  be  startled  by  fire- 
works so  far  off,'  said  Mrs.  Loveday. 

'  I  never  saw  rockets  before,'  murmured  Anne,  re- 
covering from  her  surprise. 

Mrs.  Loveday  presently  spoke  again.  *  I  wonder 
what  has  become  of  Bob  ?  ' 

Anne  did  not  reply,  being  much  exercised  in  trying 
to  get  her  hand  away  from  the  one  that  imprisoned  it ; 
and  whatever  the  miller  thought  he  kept  to  himself, 
because  it  disturbed  his  smoking  to  speak. 

Another  batch  of  rockets  went  up.  '  O  I  never  ! ' 
said  Anne,  in  a  half-suppressed  tone,  springing  in  her 
chair.  A  second  hand  had  with  the  rise  of  the  rockets 
leapt  round  her  waist. 

1  Poor  girl,  you  certainly  must  have  change  of  scene 
at  this  rate/  said  Mrs.  Loveday. 

f  I  suppose  I  must,'  murmured  the  dutiful  daughter. 

For  some  minutes  nothing  further  occurred  to  disturb 
Anne's  serenity.  Then  a  slow,  quiet  *  a-hem '  came 
from  the  obscurity  of  the  apartment. 

'  What,  Bob  ?  How  long  have  you  been  there  ? ' 
inquired  Mrs.  Loveday. 

'  Not  long,'  said  the  lieutenant  coolly.  *  I  heard  you 
were  all  here,  and  crept  up  quietly,  not  to  disturb  ye.' 

'  Why  don't  you  wear  heels  to  your  shoes  like  Chris- 
tian people,  and  not  creep  about  so  like  a  cat  ? ' 

*  Well,  it  keeps  your  floors  clean  to  go  slip-shod.' 

1  That's  true.' 

Meanwhile  Anne  was  gently  but  firmly  trying  to  pull 

Bob's  arm  from  her  waist,  her  distressful  difficulty  being 

that  in  freeing  her  waist  she  enslaved  her  hand,  and  in 

getting  her  hand  free  she  enslaved  her  waist.     Finding 

370 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

the  struggle  a  futile  one,  owing  to  the  invisibility  of  her 
antagonist,  and  her  wish  to  keep  its  nature  secret  from 
the  other  two,  she  arose,  and  saying  that  she  did  not 
care  to  see  any  more,  felt  her  way  downstairs.  Bob 
followed,  leaving  Loveday  and  his  wife  to  themselves. 

'  Dear  Anne,'  he  began,  when  he  had  got  down,  and 
saw  her  in  the  candle-light  of  the  large  room.  But  she 
adroitly  passed  out  at  the  other  door,  at  which  he  took 
a  candle  and  followed  her  to  the  small  room.  '  Dear 
Anne,  do  let  me  speak,'  he  repeated,  as  soon  as  the  rays 
revealed  her  figure.  But  she  passed  into  the  bakehouse 
before  he  could  say  more;  whereupon  he  perseveringly 
did  the  same.  Looking  round  for  her  here  he  perceived 
her  at  the  end  of  the  room,  where  there  were  no  means 
of  exit  whatever. 

*  Dear  Anne,'    he    began   again,   setting   down    the 
candle,  *  you  must  try  to  forgive  me ;  really  you  must. 
I  love  you  the  best  of  anybody  in  the  wide,  wide  world. 
Try  to  forgive  me ;  come  ! '     And  he  imploringly  took 
her  hand. 

Anne's  bosom  began  to  surge  and  fall  like  a  small 
tide,  her  eyes  remaining  fixed  upon  the  floor;  till,  when 
Loveday  ventured  to  draw  her  slightly  towards  him,  she 
burst  out  crying.  *  I  don't  like  you,  Bob ;  I  don't ! ' 
she  suddenly  exclaimed  between  her  sobs.  '  I  did  once, 
but  I  don't  now- — I  can't,  I  can't ;  you  have  been  very 
cruel  to  me  1 '  She  violently  turned  away,  weeping. 

*  I  have,  I  have  been  terribly  bad,  I  know,'  answered 
Bob,  conscience-stricken  by  her  grief.      '  But — if  you 
could  only  forgive  me — I  promise  that  I'll  never  do 
anything    to    grieve    'ee    again.     Do    you   forgive   me, 
Anne?' 

Anne's  only  reply  was  crying  and  shaking  her  head. 

'  Let's  make  it  up.  Come,  say  we  have  made  it  up, 
dear.' 

She  withdrew  her  hand,  and  still  keeping  her  eyes 
buried  in  her  handkerchief,  said  { No.' 


THE   TRUMPET-MAJOR 

{ Very  well,  then ! '  exclaimed  Bob,  with  sudden 
determination.  '  Now  I  know  my  doom  !  And  what- 
ever you  hear  of  as  happening  to  me,  mind  this,  you 
cruel  girl,  that  it  is  all  your  causing ! '  Saying  this  he 
strode  with  a  hasty  tread  across  the  room  into  the 
passage  and  out  at  the  door,  slamming  it  loudly  behind 
him. 

Anne  suddenly  looked  up  from  her  handkerchief,  and 
stared  with  round  wet  eyes  and  parted  lips  at  the  door 
by  which  he  had  gone.  Having  remained  with  sus- 
pended breath  in  this  attitude  for  a  few  seconds  she 
turned  round,  bent  her  head  upon  the  table,  and  burst 
out  weeping  anew  with  thrice  the  violence  of  the  former 
time.  It  really  seemed  now  as  if  her  grief  would  over- 
whelm her,  all  the  emotions  which  had  been  suppressed, 
bottled  up,  and  concealed  since  Bob's  return  having 
made  themselves  a  sluice  at  last. 

But  such  things  have  their  end ;  and  left  to  herself 
in  the  large,  vacant,  old  apartment,  she  grew  quieter, 
and  at  last  calm.  At  length  she  took  the  candle  and 
ascended  to  her  bedroom,  where  she  bathed  her  eyes 
and  looked  in  the  glass  to  see  if  she  had  made  herself  a 
dreadful  object.  It  was  not  so  bad  as  she  had  expected, 
and  she  went  downstairs  again. 

Nobody  was  there,  and,  sitting  down,  she  wondered 
what  Bob  had  really  meant  by  his  words.  It  was  too 
dreadful  to  think  that  he  intended  to  go  straight  away 
to  sea  without  seeing  her  again,  and  frightened  at  what 
she  had  done  she  waited  anxiously  for  his  return. 


THE   TRUMPET-MAJOR 


A  CALL 

ON  BUSINESS 

XL 

HER  suspense  was  interrupted  by  a  very  gentle  tap- 
ping at  the  door,  and  then  the  rustle  of  a  hand  over  its 
surface,  as  if  searching  for  the  latch  in  the  dark.  The 
door  opened  a  few  inches,  and  the  alabaster  face  of 
Uncle  Benjy  appeared  in  the  slit. 

*  O,  Squire  Derriman,  you  frighten  me  ! ' 

'  All  alone  ?  '  he  asked  in  a  whisper. 

'  My  mother  and  Mr.  Loveday  are  somewhere  about 
the  house.' 

'  That  will  do,'  he  said,  coming  forward.  '  I  be 
wherrited  out  of  my  life,  and  I  have  thought  of  you  again 
— you  yourself,  dear  Anne,  and  not  the  miller.  If  you 
will  only  take  this  and  lock  it  up  for  a  few  days  till  I  can 
find  another  good  place  for  it — if  you  only  would ! ' 
And  he  breathlessly  deposited  the  tin  box  on  the  table. 

'  What,  obliged  to  dig  it  up  from  the  cellar  ? ' 

'  Ay ;  my  nephew  hath  a  scent  of  the  place — how,  I 
don't  know !  but  he  and  a  young  woman  he's  met  with 
are  searching  everywhere.  I  worked  like  a  wire-drawer 
to  get  it  up  and  away  while  they  were  scraping  in  the 
next  cellar.  Now  where  could  ye  put  it,  dear?  'Tis 
only  a  few  documents,  and  my  will,  and  such  like,  you 
373 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

know.     Poor  soul  o*  me,  I'm  worn  out  with  running 
and  fright ! ' 

*  I'll  put  it  here  till  I  can  think  of  a  better  place,' 
said    Anne,    lifting   the    box.      '  Dear   me,   how  heavy 
it  is!' 

'  Yes,  yes,'  said  Uncle  Benjy  hastily ;  '  the  box  is 
iron,  you  see.  However,  take  care  of  it,  because  I  am 
going  to  make  it  worth  your  while.  Ah,  you  are  a  good 
girl,  Anne.  I  wish  you  was  mine  ! ' 

Anne  looked  at  Uncle  Benjy.  She  had  known  for 
some  time  that  she  possessed  all  the  affection  he  had  to 
bestow. 

'  Why  do  you  wish  that  ? '  she  said  simply. 

*  Now  don't  ye  argue  with  me.     Where  d'ye  put  the 
coffer  ? ' 

'  Here,'  said  Anne,  going  to  the  window-seat,  which 
rose  as  a  flap,  disclosing  a  boxed  receptacle  beneath,  as 
in  many  old  houses. 

"Tis  very  well  for  the  present,'  he  said  dubiously, 
and  they  dropped  the  coffer  in,  Anne  locking  down  the 
seat,  and  giving  him  the  key,  c  Now  I  don't  want  ye  to 
be  on  my  side  for  nothing,'  he  went  on.  '  I  never  did 
now,  did  I  ?  This  is  for  you.'  He  handed  her  a  little 
packet  of  paper,  which  Anne  turned  over  and  looked  at 
curiously.  '  I  always  meant  to  do  it,'  continued  Uncle 
Benjy,  gazing  at  the  packet  as  it  lay  in  her  hand,  and 
sighing.  '  Come,  open  it,  my  dear ;  I  always  meant  to 
do  it ! ' 

She  opened  it  and  found  twenty  new  guineas  snugly 
packed  within, 

'  Yes,  they  are  for  you.  I  always  meant  to  do  it ! ' 
he  said,  sighing  again. 

'  But  you  owe  me  nothing ! '  returned  Anne,  holding 
them  out. 

'  Don't  say  it ! '  cried  Uncle  Benjy,  covering  his  eyes. 
'  Put  'em  away.  .  ,  .  Well,  if  you  don't  want  'em — But 
put  'em  away,  dear  Anne ;  they  are  for  you,  because  you 
374 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

have  kept  my  counsel.  Good-night  t'  ye.  Yes,  they  are 
for  you.' 

He  went  a  few  steps,  and  turning  back  added 
anxiously,  '  You  won't  spend  'em  in  clothes,  or  waste  'em 
in  fairings,  or  ornaments  of  any  kind,  my  dear  girl  ?  ' 

'I  will  not,'  said  Anne.  'I  wish  you  would  have 
them.' 

'No,  no,'  said  Uncle  Benjy,  rushing  off  to  escape 
their  shine.  But  he  had  got  no  further  than  the  passage 
when  he  returned  again. 

1  And  you  won't  lend  'em  to  anybody,  or  put  'em  into 
the  bank — -for  no  bank  is  safe  in  these  troublous  times  ? 
...  If  I  was  you  I'd  keep  them  exactly  as  they  be,  and 
not  spend  'em  on  any  account.  Shall  I  lock  them  into 
my  box  for  ye  ?  ' 

' Certainly,'  said  she;  and  the  farmer  rapidly  un- 
locked the  window-bench,  opened  the  box,  and  locked 
them  in. 

'  'Tis  much  the  best  plan,'  he  said  with  great  satis- 
faction as  he  returned  the  keys  to  his  pocket.  '  There 
they  will  always  be  safe,  you  see,  and  you  won't  be 
exposed  to  temptation.' 

When  the  old  man  had  been  gone  a  few  minutes,  the 
miller  and  his  wife  came  in,  quite  unconscious  of  all  that 
had  passed.  Anne's  anxiety  about  Bob  was  again  upper- 
most now,  and  she  spoke  but  meagrely  of  old  Derriman's 
visit,  and  nothing  of  what  he  had  left.  She  would  fain 
have  asked  them  if  they  knew  where  Bob  was,  but  that 
she  did  not  wish  to  inform  them  of  the  rupture.  She  was 
forced  to  admit  to  herself  that  she  had  somewhat  tried 
his  patience,  and  that  impulsive  men  had  been  known 
to  do  dark  things  with  themselves  at  such  times. 

They  sat  down  to  supper,  the  clock  ticked  rapidly  on, 
and  at  length  the  miller  said,  « Bob  is  later  than  usual. 
Where  can  he  be  ? ' 

As  they  both  looked  at  her,  she  could  no  longer  keep 
the  secret. 

375 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

'  It  is  my  fault,'  she  cried ;  '  I  have  driven  him  away  ! 
What  shall  I  do?' 

The  nature  of  the  quarrel  was  at  once  guessed,  and 
her  two  elders  said  no  more.  Anne  rose  and  went  to 
the  front  door,  where  she  listened  for  every  sound  with 
a  palpitating  heart.  Then  she  went  in ;  then  she  went 
out :  and  on  one  occasion  she  heard  the  miller  say,  '  I 
wonder  what  hath  passed  between  Bob  and  Anne.  I 
hope  the  chap  will  come  home.'  . 

Just  about  this  time  light  footsteps  were  heard  with- 
out, and  Bob  bounced  into  the  passage.  Anne,  who 
stood  back  in  the  dark  while  he  passed,  followed  him 
into  the  room,  where  her  mother  and  the  miller  were  on 
the  point  of  retiring  to  bed,  candle  in  hand. 

'  I  have  kept  ye  up,  I  fear/  began  Bob  cheerily,  and 
apparently  without  the  faintest  recollection  of  his  tragic 
exit  from  the  house.  '  But  the  truth  on't  is,  I  met  with 
Fess  Derriman  at  the  "  Duke  of  York  "  as  I  went  from 
here,  and  there  we  have  been  playing  Put  ever  since,  not 
noticing  how  the  time  was  going.  I  haven't  had  a  good 
chat  with  the  fellow  for  years  and  years,  and  really  he  is 
an  out  and  out  good  comrade — a  regular  hearty !  Poor 
fellow,  he's  been  very  badly  used.  I  never  heard  the 
rights  of  the  story  till  now;  but  it  seems  that  old  uncle 
of  his  treats  him  shamefully.  He  has  been  hiding  away 
his  money,  so  that  poor  Fess  might  not  have  a  farthing, 
till  at  last  the  young  man  has  turned,  like  any  other 
worm,  and  is  now  determined  to  ferret  out  what  he  has 
done  with  it.  The  poor  young  chap  hadn't  a  farthing 
of  ready  money  till  I  lent  him  a  couple  of  guineas — a 
thing  I  never  did  more  willingly  in  my  life.  But  the 
man  was  very  honourable.  "  No ;  no,"  says  he,  "  don't 
let  me  deprive  ye."  He's  going  to  marry,  and  what  may 
you  think  he  is  going  to  do  it  for  ? ' 

'  For  love,  I  hope,'  said  Anne's  mother. 

'  For  money,  I  suppose,  since  he's  so  short/  said  the 
miller. 

376 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

'  No,'  said  Bob,  '  for  spite.  He  has  been  badly 
served — deuced  badly  served — by  a  woman.  I  never 
heard  of  a  more  heartless  case  in  my  life.  The  poor 
chap  wouldn't  mention  names,  but  it  seems  this  young 
woman  has  trifled  with  him  in  all  manner  of  cruel  ways 
—pushed  him  into  the  river,  tried  to  steal  his  horse 
when  he  was  called  out  to  defend  his  country — in  short, 
served  him  rascally.  So  I  gave  him  the  two  guineas 
and  said,  "  Now  let's  drink  to  the  hussy's  downfall !  " 

'  O  ! '  said  Anne,  having  approached  behind  him. 

Bob  turned  and  saw  her,  and  at  the  same  moment  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Loveday  discreetly  retired  by  the  other  door. 

c  Is  it  peace  ?  '  he  asked  tenderly. 

1  O  yes,'  she  anxiously  replied.  c  I — didn't  mean  to 
make  you  think  I  had  no  heart.'  At  this  Bob  inclined 
his  countenance  towards  hers.  '  No,'  she  said,  smiling 
through  two  incipient  tears  as  she  drew  back.  '  You 
are  to  show  good  behaviour  for  six  months,  and  you 
must  promise  not  to  frighten  me  again  by  running  off 
when  I — show  you  how  badly  you  have  served  me.' 

'  I    am   yours    obedient — in    anything,'    cried    Bob, 

*  But  am  I  pardoned  ?  ' 

Youth  is  foolish;  and  does  a  woman  often  let  her 
reasoning  in  favour  of  the  worthier  stand  in  the  way  of 
her  perverse  desire  for  the  less  worthy  at  such  times  as 
these?  She  murmured  some  soft  words,  ending  with 

*  Do  you  repent  ? ' 

It  would  be  superfluous  to  transcribe  Bob's  answer. 

Footsteps  were  heard  without. 

'  O  begad ;  I  forgot ! '  said  Bob.  '  He's  waiting  out 
there  for  a  light.' 

'  Who  ? ' 

'  My  friend  Derriman.' 

'  But,  Bob,  I  have  to  explain.' 

But  Festus  had  by  this  time  entered  the  lobby,  and 
Anne,  with  a  hasty  '  Get  rid  of  him  at  once ! '  vanished 
upstairs. 

377 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

Here  she  waited  and  waited,  but  Festus  did  not 
seem  inclined  to  depart;  and  at  last,  foreboding  some 
collision  of  interests  from  Bob's  new  friendship  for  this 
man,  she  crept  into  a  storeroom  which  was  over  the 
apartment  into  which  Loveday  and  Festus  had  gone. 
By  looking  through  a  knot-hole  in  the  floor  it  was  easy 
to  command  a  view  of  the  room  beneath,  this  being 
unceiled,  with  moulded  beams  and  rafters. 

Festus  had  sat  down  on  the  hollow  window-bench, 
and  was  continuing  the  statement  of  his  wrongs.  '  If 
he  only  knew  what  he  was  sitting  upon,'  she  thought 
apprehensively,  '  how  easily  he  could  tear  up  the  flap, 
lock  and  all,  with  his  strong  arm,  and  seize  upon  poor 
Uncle  Benjy's  possessions ! '  But  he  did  not  appear  to 
know,  unless  he  were  acting,  which  was  just  possible. 
After  a  while  he  rose,  and  going  to  the  table  lifted  the 
candle  to  light  his  pipe.  At  the  moment  when  the 
flame  began  diving  into  the  bowl  the  door  noiselessly 
opened  and  a  figure  slipped  across  the  room  to  the 
window-bench,  hastily  unlocked  it,  withdrew  the  box, 
and  beat  a  retreat.  Anne  in  a  moment  recognized  the 
ghostly  intruder  as  Festus  Derriman's  uncle.  Before 
he  could  get  out  of  the  room  Festus  set  down  the  candle 
and  turned. 

<  What — Uncle  Benjy — haw,  haw  !  Here  at  this 
time  of  night  ? ' 

Uncle  Benjy's  eyes  grew  paralyzed,  and  his  mouth 
opened  and  shut  like  a  frog's  in  a  drought,  the  action 
producing  no  sound. 

*  What  have  we  got  here — a  tin  box — the  box  of 
boxes  ?  Why,  I'll  carry  it  for  'ee,  uncle  \ — I  am  going 
home.' 

'  N — no — no,  thanky,  Festus  :  it  is  n — n — not 
heavy  at  all,  thanky,'  gasped  the  squireen. 

'  Q  but  I  must,'  said  Festus,  pulling  at  the  box. 

'  Don't  let  him  have  it,  Bob  ! '  screamed  the  excited 
Anne  through  the  hole  in  the  floor. 

378 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

'  No,  don't  let  him  1 '  cried  the,  unde.  « Tis  a  plot 
— there's  a  woman  at  the  window  waiting  to  help 
him!' 

Anne's  eyes  flew  to  the  window,  and  she  saw 
Matilda's  face  pressed  against  the  pane. 

Bob,  though  he  did  not  know  whence  Anne's  com- 
mand proceeded,  obeyed  with  alacrity,  pulled  the  box 
from  the  two  relatives,  and  placed  it  on  the  table 
beside  him. 

'  Now,  look  here,  hearties ;  what's  the  meaning  o' 
this  ?  '  he  said. 

'  He's  trying  to  rob  me  of  all  I  possess  !  '  cried  the 
old  man.  '  My  heart-strings  seem  as  if  they  were 
going  crack,  crack,  crack  !  ' 

At  this  instant  the  miller  in  his  shirt-sleeves  entered 
the  room,  having  got  thus  far  in  his  undressing  when 
he  heard  the  noise.  Bob  and  Festus  turned  to  him  to 
explain ;  and  when  the  latter  had  had  his  say  Bob 
added,  *  Well,  all  I  know  is  that  this  box '. — here  he 
stretched  out  his  hand  to  lay  it  upon  the  lid  for 
emphasis.  But  as  nothing  but  thin  air  met  his  fingers 
where  the  box  had  been,  he  turned,  and  found  that  the 
box  was  gone,  Uncle  Benjy  having  vanished  also. 

Festus,  with  an  imprecation,  hastened  to  the  door, 
but  though  the  night  was  not  dark  Farmer  Derriman 
and  his  burden  were  nowhere  to  be  seen,  On  the 
bridge  Festus  joined  a  shadowy  female  form,  and  they 
went  along  the  road  together,  followed  for  some  dis- 
tance by  Bob,  lest  they  should  meet  with  and  harm 
the  old  man.  But  the  precaution  was  unnecessary : 
nowhere  on  the  road  was  there  any  sign  of  Farmer 
Derriman,  or  of  the  box  that  belonged  to  him.  When 
Bob  re-entered  the  house  Anne  and  Mrs.  Loveday  had 
joined  the  miller  downstairs,  and  then  for  the  first  time 
he  learnt  who  had  been  the  heroine  of  Festus's  lament- 
able story,  with  many  other  particulars  of  that  yeoman's 
history  which  he  had  never  before  known.  Bob  swore 
379 


THE   TRUMPET-MAJOR 

that  he  would  not  speak  to  the  traitor  again,  and  the 
family  retired. 

The  escape  of  old  Mr.  Derriman  from  the  annoy- 
ances of  his  nephew  not  only  held  good  for  that  night, 
but  for  next  day,  and  for  ever.  Just  after  dawn  on 
the  following  morning  a  labouring  man,  who  was  going 
to  his  work,  saw  the  old  farmer  and  landowner  lean- 
ing over  a  rail  in  a  mead  near  his  house,  apparently 
engaged  in  contemplating  the  water  of  a  brook  before 
him.  Drawing  near,  the  man  spoke,  but  Uncle  Benjy 
did  not  reply.  His  head  was  hanging  strangely,  his 
body  being  supported  in  its  erect  position  entirely  by 
the  rail  that  passed  under  each  arm.  On  after-exami- 
nation it  was  found  that  Uncle  Benjy's  poor  withered 
heart  had  cracked  and  stopped  its  beating  from  damages 
inflicted  on  it  by  the  excitements  of  his  life,  and  of  the 
previous  night  in  particular.  The  unconscious  carcass 
was  little  more  than  a  light  empty  husk,  dry  and  flesh- 
less  as  that  of  a  dead  heron  found  on  a  moor  in 
January. 

But  the  tin  box  was  not  discovered  with  or  near  him. 
It  was  searched  for  all  the  week,  and  all  the  month. 
The  mill-pond  was  dragged,  quarries  were  examined, 
woods  were  threaded,  rewards  were  offered;  but  in 
vain. 

At  length  one  day  in  the-  spring,  when  the  mill-house 
was  about  to  be  cleaned  throughout,  the  chimney-board 
of  Anne's  bedroom,  concealing  a  yawning  fire-place,  had 
to  be  taken  down.  In  the  chasm  behind  it  stood  the 
missing  deed-box  of  Farmer  Derriman. 

Many  were  the  conjectures  as  to  how  it  had  got  there. 
Then  Anne  remembered  that  on  going  to  bed  on  the 
night  of  the  collision  between  Festus  and  his  uncle  in 
the  room  below,  she  had  seen  mud  on  the  carpet  of 
her  room,  and  the  miller  remembered  that  he  had  seen 
footprints  on  the  back  staircase.  The  solution  of  the 
mystery  seemed  to  be  that  the  late  Uncle  Benjy,  instead 
380 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

of  running  off  from  the  house  with  his  box,  had  doubled 
on  getting  out  of  the  front  door,  entered  at  the  back, 
deposited  his  box  in  Anne's  chamber  where  it  was 
found,  and  then  leisurely  pursued  his  way  home  at  the 
heels  of  Festus,  intending  to  tell  Anne  of  his  trick  the 
next  day — an  intention  that  was  for  ever  frustrated  by 
the  stroke  of  death. 

Mr.  Derriman's  solicitor  was  a  Casterbridge  man, 
and  Anne  placed  the  box  in  his  hands.  Uncle  Benjy's 
will  was  discovered  within ;  and  by  this  testament  Anne's 
queer  old  friend  appointed  her  sole  executrix  of  his  said 
will,  and,  more  than  that,  gave  and  bequeathed  to  the 
same  young  lady  all  his  real  and  personal  estate,  with 
the  solitary  exception  of  five  small  freehold  houses  in 
a  back  street  in  Budmouth,  which  were  devised  to  his 
nephew  Festus,  as  a  sufficient  property  to  maintain  him 
decently,  without  affording  any  margin  for  extravagances. 
Oxwell  Hall,  with  its  muddy  quadrangle,  archways, 
mullioned  windows,  cracked  battlements,  and  weed- 
grown  garden,  passed  with  the  rest  into  the  hands  of 
Anne. 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 


JOHN  MARCHES 

INTO  THE  NIGHT 

XLI 

UURING  this  exciting  time  John  Loveday  seldom  or 
never  appeared  at  the  mill.  With  the  recall  of  Bob,  in 
which  he  had  been  sole  agent,  his  mission  seemed  to  be 
complete. 

One  mid-day,  before  Anne  had  made  any  change  in 
her  manner  of  living  on  account  of  her  unexpected  acqui- 
sition, Lieutenant  Bob  came  in  rather  suddenly.  He 
had  been  to  Budmouth,  and  announced  to  the  arrested 
senses  of  the  family  that  the  — th  Dragoons  were  ordered 
to  join  Sir  Arthur  Wellesley  in  the  Peninsula. 

These  tidings  produced  a  great  impression  on  the 
household.  John  had  been  so  long  in  the  neighbour- 
hood, either  at  camp  or  in  barracks,  that  they  had 
almost  forgotten  the  possibility  of  his  being  sent  away ; 
and  they  now  began  to  reflect  upon  the  singular  in- 
frequency  of  his  calls  since  his  brother's  return.  There 
was  not  much  time,  however,  for  reflection,  if  they 
wished  to  make  the  most  of  John's  farewell  visit,  which 
was  to  be  paid  the  same  evening,  the  departure  of  the 
regiment  being  fixed  for  next  day.  A  hurried  valedictory 
supper  was  prepared  during  the  afternoon,  and  shortly 
afterwards  John  arrived. 

382 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

He  seemed  to  be  more  thoughtful  and  a  trifle  paler 
than  of  old,  but  beyond  these  traces,  which  might  have 
been  due  to  the  natural  wear  and  tear  of  time,  he  showed 
no  signs  of  gloom.  On  his  way  through  the  town  that 
morning  a  curious  little  incident  had  occurred  to  him. 
He  was  walking  past  one  of  the  churches  when  a 
wedding-party  came  forth,  the  bride  and  bridegroom 
being  Matilda  and  Festus  Derriman.  At  sight  of  the 
trumpet-major  the  yeoman  had  glared  triumphantly; 
Matilda,  on  her  part,  had  winked  at  him  slily,  as  much 
as  to  say — .  But  what  she  meant  heaven  knows ;  the 
trumpet-major  did  not  trouble  himself  to  think,  and 
passed  on  without  returning  the  mark  of  confidence  with 
which  she  had  favoured  him. 

Soon  after  John's  arrival  at  the  mill  several  of  his 
friends  dropped  in  for  the  same  purpose  of  bidding 
adieu.  They  were  mostly  the  men  who  had  been  enter- 
tained there  on  the  occasion  of  the  regiment's  advent  on 
the  down,  when  Anne  and  her  mother  were  coaxed  in  to 
grace  the  party  by  their  superior  presence ;  and  their 
well-trained,  gallant  manners  were  such  as  to  make  them 
interesting  visitors  now  as  at  all  times.  For  it  was  a 
period  when  romance  had  not  so  greatly  faded  out  of 
military  life  as  it  has  done  in  these  days  of  short  ser- 
vice, heterogeneous  mixing,  and  transient  campaigns; 
when  the  esprit  de  corps  was  strong,  and  long  experience 
stamped  noteworthy  professional  characteristics  even  on 
rank  and  file ;  while  the  miller's  visitors  had  the  additional 
advantage  of  being  picked  men. 

They  could  not  stay  so  long  to-night  as  on  that 
earlier  and  more  cheerful  occasion,  and  the  final  adieus 
were  spoken  at  an  early  hour.  It  was  no  mere  playing 
at  departure,  as  when  they  had  gone  to  Exonbury 
barracks,  and  there  was  a  Warm  and  prolonged  shaking 
of  hands  all  round. 

'  You'll  wish  the  poor  fellows  good-bye  ? '  said  Bob 
to  Anne,  who  had  not  come  forward  for  that  purpose 
383 


THE  TRUMPET-MAJOR 

like  the  rest.  '  They  are  going  away,  and  would  like  to 
have  your  good  word.' 

She  then  shyly  advanced,  and  every  man  felt  that  he 
must  make  some  pretty  speech  as  he  shook  her  by  the 
hand. 

'  Good-bye !  May  you  remember  us  as  long  as  it 
makes  ye  happy,  and  forget  us  as  soon  as  it  makes  ye 
sad,'  said  Sergeant  Brett. 

'Good -night!  Health,  wealth,  and  long  life  to 
ye ! '  said  Sergeant-major  Wills,  taking  her  hand  from 
Brett. 

{I  trust  to  meet  ye  again  as  the  wife  of  a  worthy 
man,'  said  Trumpeter  Buck. 

'  We'll  drink  your  health  throughout  the  campaign, 
and  so  good-bye  t'ye,'  said  Saddler- sergeant  Jones, 
raising  her  hand  to  his  lips. 

Three  others  followed  with  similar  remarks,  to  each 
of  which  Anne  blushingly  replied  as  well  as  she  could, 
wishing  them  a  prosperous  voyage,  easy  conquest,  and 
a  speedy  return. 

But,  alas,  for  that !  Battles  and  skirmishes,  advances 
and  retreats,  fevers  and  fatigues,  told  hard  on  Anne's 
gallant  friends  in  the  coming  time.  Of  the  seven  upon 
whom  these  wishes  were  bestowed,  five,  including  the 
trumpet-major,  were  dead  men  within  the  few  following 
years,  and  their  bones  left  to  moulder  in  the  land  of 
their  campaigns. 

John  lingered  behind.  When  the  others  were  out- 
side, expressing  a  final  farewell  to  his  father,  Bob,  and 
Mrs.  Loveday,  he  came  to  Anne,  who  remained  within. 

'But  I  thought  you  were  going  to  look  in  again 
before  leaving  ? '  she  said  gently. 

'  No ;  I  find  I  cannot.     Good-bye  ! ' 

'John,'  said  Anne,  holding  his  right  hand  in  both 

hers,  '  I  must  tell  you  something.     You  were  wise  in 

not  taking  me  at  my  word  that  day.     I  was  greatly 

mistaken  about  myself.     Gratitude  is  not  love,  though  I 

384 


THE   TRUMPET-MAJOR 

wanted  to  make  it  so  for  the  time.  You  don't  call  me 
thoughtless  for  what  I  did  ?  ' 

'  My  dear  Anne,'  cried  John,  with  more  gaiety  than 
truthfulness,  '  don't  let  yourself  be  troubled !  What 
happens  is  for  the  best.  Soldiers  love  here  to-day  and 
there  to-morrow.  Who  knows  that  you  won't  hear  of 
my  attentions  to  some  Spanish  maid  before  a  month 
is  gone  by  ?  'Tis  the  way  of  us,  you  know ;  a  soldier's 
heart  is  not  worth  a  week's  purchase — ha,  ha !  Good- 
bye, good-bye ! ' 

Anne  felt  the  expediency  of  his  manner,  received  the 
affectation  as  real,  and  smiled  her  reply,  not  knowing 
that  the  adieu  was  for  evermore.  Then  with  a  tear  in 
his  eye  he  went  out  of  the  door,  where  he  bade  farewell 
to  the  miller,  Mrs.  Loveday,  and  Bob,  who  said  at 
parting,  <  It's  all  right,  Jack,  my  dear  fellow.  After  a 
coaxing  that  would  have  been  enough  to  win  three 
ordinary  Englishwomen,  five  French,  and  ten  Mulotters, 
she  has  to-day  agreed  to  bestow  her  hand  upon  me  at 
the  end  of  six  months.  Good-bye,  Jack,  good-bye  ! ' 

The  candle  held  by  his  father  shed  its  waving  light 
upon  John's  face  and  uniform  as  with  a  farewell  smile 
he  turned  on  the  doorstone,  backed  by  the  black  night ; 
and  in  another  moment  he  had  plunged  into  the  dark- 
ness, the  ring  of  his  smart  step  dying  away  upon  the 
bridge  as  he  joined  his  companions-in-arms,  and  went 
off  to  blow  his  trumpet  till  silenced  for  ever  upon  one 
of  the  bloody  battle-fields  of  Spain. 


THE   END 


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